


Desperation Volume 3: To Love

by SunfireScribbles



Series: Desperation [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Best friends Harry and Draco, Family Feels, First Time, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Lord Potter, M/M, Oral Sex, Politics, Portrait Founders - Freeform, Pureblood Courting, Pureblood Traditions, Pureblood-Raised Harry Potter, Quantum Bang 2019, Rimming, Slash, Third in Trilogy, almost a slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-03 12:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19464214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunfireScribbles/pseuds/SunfireScribbles
Summary: Harry Potter was a lonely and abused boy, but he found acceptance and family within Malfoy Manor.  He made his first and best friend, the heir Malfoy, within the Malfoy hedge maze.  Now, as he grows old enough to take his titles and his place in the Wizarding World, he wants to find the one thing he is missing.  Love.  The Pure-blood mores and traditions he learned from the Malfoys will provide a script, but who will play his other half?  And if he finds the right person, will romance or a future be in the cards for the future Lord Potter?  Harry desperately hopes so.





	1. Try, and Try Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third and final installment in the Desperation Trilogy- this was actually meant to be a single story but was so long, I had to break it up. Luckily it split nicely into these three main blocks. This is the longest thing I have ever written, let alone finished, so I am super proud of myself for getting through this and probably never would have managed it without having the challenge of the Quantum Bang to keep me going. The Bang was great and I was privileged to work with Tiffany who made me awesome art for this fic you should really check out- you can find here: http://quantumbang.org/artist-showcase-tiffany-for-desperation/  
> Thanks so much, Tiffany! And thanks to NCP for her time and patience as my beta!

As stressful as the court’s Summer Season had been, the boys had looked forward to the Fall Season with the expectation that it would be easier, or at least less stressful overall. The Season started off with the presentation and evaluation of the review that had been conducted over the recess regarding Sirius Black’s legal case. This topic, being so strongly linked with the abuses that resulted from the loss of his Godfather and subsequent placement with the Dursleys, was far from easy for the future Lord Potter.

Draco spent more or less the entire month of November keeping a wary and concerned eye on Harry. When he wasn’t doing so, he was more often than not trying to calm and reassure the brunette. He knew his friend had wanted his Godfather out of jail the moment he had first heard that the older wizard had been imprisoned without cause, but he almost wished it hadn’t come to pass, at least not as quickly.

Being on the heels of Samhain, with family and loss so close to mind, the trips to the Wizengamot Chambers and watching the trial of Sirius Black had brought with it nightmares at a greater frequency than the blond had seen since summer vacation. Being woken in the night by his best friend’s desperate cries was hauntingly familiar. As was the hour they routinely spent in the aftermath, talking, the blond attempting to distract the other boy until they could both fall back asleep.

The only real difference, besides the content of their conversations, which differed from the early years of their friendship was the furry aid he received. Excalibur was uniquely sensitive to his master’s nighttime demons and was known to forcefully wake the blond if Harry’s torment was silent and therefore did not wake the blond itself. Cal seemed to know that Draco was his ally in maintaining the smaller wizard’s mood as he also had a tendency to herd his master over to the other Slytherin if he was especially troubled, no matter the time of night or day.

Even with the Kneazle’s efforts, however, the exhausted, pained expression that lingered in the brunette’s eyes was like a window to their past. It was like they were eight all over again, back when Harry had been at the Manor for less than a year and the scrawny little boy with the too-large glasses seemed frightened of any touch or quick movement and utterly overwhelmed by any kind of positive attention.

Draco let out a long sigh as they both dressed in their uniforms and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, giving the scowling cat a scratch and a look of commiseration as he left the dorm. He was not the least bit hesitant to admit that he loved the memories of their childhood together, but these particular memories he could do without reliving. _And yet_ , he thought as he watched the Potter heir struggle to focus in any of the day’s classes, green eyes continuously becoming glazed and unfocused as his thoughts drifted elsewhere, _here we are, all over again._

The decline of the brunette’s mood had started after the first of the nine Fall sessions of the court. The shift had been characterized by a frustrated annoyance that was not out of line with the way his father and Lady Longbottom had often talked of the Wizengamot before the start of the boys’ first-year. He hadn’t been overly concerned at the time, but as the days passed, the blond had grown more and more worried. At first, the silences bothered him the most, and he tried his best to get the other heir to talk about what was going on. His efforts had eventually resulted in Harry ranting feverishly about how the court could have missed the fact that Sirius hadn’t been given a trial.

“Any criminal conviction requires the attendance of the full court. Every single one of them should have been there in order for him to have been legally declared guilty, and at least three quarters would have had to vote against him.”

The brunette had rubbed his eyes tiredly, leaving his glasses crooked where they rested on his nose before picking up Cal from where he kept trying to climb his legs while he paced. “How did they not question his being tried without them there? Didn’t a single one of them wonder how that had happened?”

The green eyes had been wide and disbelieving as they stared at his dorm-mate, but he hadn’t given the other boy a chance to answer. “They should have known it couldn’t have, they should have realized immediately that there hadn’t been a trial. And yet none of them did. And if any had, they certainly didn’t protest a man being sentenced to life in Azkaban without trial.”

Draco still recalled every inch of the hopeless expression. Knowing Dumbledore had circumvented the law as horribly as he had was one thing. Knowing the old man’s pathetic followers looked the other way or excused it when it happened was another. But facing the fact that almost every court member had been so blinded or distracted by their hatred and fear that they hadn’t seen such a blatant injustice? Or that they hadn’t cared to do anything about it because they either wanted the whole sordid mess of the war to go away or were too happy to see a supposed Death Eater get punished that justice didn’t matter? Or that the ones who had noticed something amiss either blindly and unreasonably trusted those who told them not to worry, or were not able or inclined to do anything about it?

That was something completely different and the Second-Time-Savior simply wasn’t sure how to take that. The young blond had gritted his teeth and done his best to get his best friend through the aftermath of the first Fall session, and then the second. When that day had ended with the official exoneration of Lord Black, Draco had expected Harry’s mood to improve. Instead, after Sirius’ release on the seventh of November, the smaller wizard had spent long hours in their dorms fretting about his Godfather’s health or how the former inmate would react to meeting him.

“He looked awful, Draco. Sick. So skinny and dirty and weak. He was pale enough to be a corpse already, but his eyes were, well,” one small hand clutched unsteadily at his disheveled hair, “they were so bright but not focused at all. Like he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was seeing. I, I don’t think he knew who I was.”

The blond wanted so badly to reach out, to place a comforting hand on the other young wizard’s shoulder, but Harry had been skittish and touch-shy all day. So instead, the taller boy listened and did his best to be there for his best friend without making physical contact. He watched rather enviously as Cal forced his way onto the boy’s lap and head-butted his master’s stomach repeatedly until he picked the Kneazle up and cuddled him to his chest. Sitting there, only watching and listening was a difficult task for Draco, made all the harder by the fact that Harry wouldn’t stop rambling long enough for his friend to get a word in edgewise.

“The Healers will help, I know, Lady Malfoy said they are optimistic about his recovery, but even if he’s like he was before… I don’t know if he’ll recognize me. Not as James Potter’s son. You know how Professor Snape has always talked about him, and my mum. They were such staunch Gryffindors. They were never fans of Pure-blood Society. Lily apparently didn’t see anything worth saving in Magical culture. James was only devoted to his House so far as his parents were concerned. They wouldn’t have taught me our culture or our laws. James only took his Lordship because it was in his father’s Will. The way Sirius talks about them all, the Marauders, they were…”

Harry’s voice dropped off, in concert with the rest of him as the boy suddenly stopped his restless pacing and slumped onto his bed, almost curling in around the purring grey mass that was Cal in cuddle mode. “They sound like… like bullies, Draco. If I had gone to school with them they probably would have picked on me. What is Sirius going to think when he’s well enough to realize I’m not at all what he expects, what he wants?”

The whispered question still rang in the blond’s ears weeks later, so loud it was painful. The thought of Harry thinking he wasn’t what Black wanted, that he might in some way be lacking, it killed him. And yet, much of what the smaller wizard had said couldn’t be argued with. Which left the taller boy with little logical ammunition to convince his friend that once well, his Godfather would love him and be as proud of him as he should be.

Harry Potter would, indisputably, have been raised much differently under the care of Lily and James Potter than he had been under the abuse of the Dursleys and the indulgence of the Malfoys. He certainly wouldn’t have learned all there was to know about their society and culture, he wouldn’t have received the guidance that had allowed him to see and to stop the manipulations of the old man whom the Potters were said to have trusted above all else.

He did his best to tell the brunette that Sirius would eventually be able to see what a fantastic and admirable wizard he was becoming. And he tried his hardest to subtly inform him that anything the remaining Black son thought was lacking in the boy was only evidence of his own shortcomings, not Harry’s. Yet it was almost like talking to no-one when he tried. The boy-hero hardly even participated in the discussion, simply looked thoughtful and sad. Within a month of Sirius’ release from Azkaban, Draco resolved to do all he could to protect his first friend from the mad wizard.

That protection started with guardianship. So long as the boy’s Godfather was legally insane, there was no possible threat to Harry’s staying with the Malfoys. But once he was well? Black was his Godfather, and his automatic legal guardian under normal circumstances. But that was hardly going to get in his way, Draco resolved every evening for a fortnight, as he huddled over his desk once Harry had drifted to sleep, reading and responding to letters from his mother. There was no way the Malfoy heir would allow his best friend to be taken from him, and Narcissa quite agreed.

A campaign of influence was swiftly begun. Harry Potter would remain the legal ward of Narcissa Malfoy, whatever it took. And Sirius Black, by the time they were finished with him, would agree with that one hundred percent. Narcissa was a highly convincing witch, and she hadn’t been Sirius’ favorite cousin for nothing. No matter how that distinction had been affected by her marriage. Their efforts were quiet, however, and so the young orphan remained completely unaware of the steps being taken on his behalf. Which was sometimes quite unfortunate, as Draco was pretty sure his continued place at the Manor was a concern for the increasingly reserved Potter heir.

Harry’s withdrawal eased somewhat as Sirius began to respond to the treatment of the private healers, but even with that improvement there remained a source of anxiety for the boy. Draco knew for a fact that Harry worried about how Sirius viewed him and how his parents would have seen him based on stories from the convalescing wizard.

“The Blacks,” Sirius had explained at one of his godson’s visits, “are known to be one of the strongest and least stable of the Arthurian families. Some say the strength of the magic has been too much for many of them to handle and that’s why they are mostly crazy. My Uncle said so. My brother believed the other argument, that the stronger connection to Wilde Magic meant that most Blacks saw things, knew things, that other weaker Magicals couldn’t and that was why there’s one or two every generation that people think are mad.”

Eventually, the former convict presented his own argument that was a strange and confusing mixture of the two that seemed routed in what the Black Lord considered Light versus Dark magic. The distinction the other man held of those two things made even less sense. Another distinction was the one that the damaged man held between the Harry Potter that had been born to James and Lily, and the one that had grown up in Malfoy Manor. That view was equally as confusing to the teen in question. The confusion was almost a blessing, however, as it allowed enough leeway for Neville and Draco to sometimes convince their friend that who he was hadn’t fallen short of who Black thought he would have been.

Watching his first and best friend struggling with self-esteem issues the blond had thought long resolved did not endear him to either his mother’s cousin or the weekly owls the older wizard exchanged with his godson. Draco was profoundly grateful when the presentation of Narcissa’s reform bill distracted her ward enough to allow for a few doses of Dreamless Sleep. Only then did the continued efforts of his friends and familiar to finally calm the Potter heir finally bear fruit.

The Conviction Reform Bill called for legal safe guards meant to ensure due process. It had been presented by the Black Proxy, Lady Malfoy, and seconded by the Longbottom Regent. Harry had returned from that session with crescent moon indentions in his palms, after clenching his fists so hard in his lap that his fingernails had almost caused bleeding.

If it hadn’t been for the sleeping draught, Draco was pretty sure his friend wouldn’t have gotten even a full hour’s sleep. As it was, worry and agitation left both young Slytherins hallow-eyed and pale only half-way through the month. Even the Bill’s passing was no relief as the debates for its implementation were sure to be long and taxing. Many laws and procedures would have to be written and organized. And every argument for and against would only draw out the process even further.

Eventually, an official request was made for the evaluation of all prisoners currently serving their sentence at Azkaban. It was agreed that four Sitting Nobles, including three from the Malfoy-Potter bloc, in addition to three high-ranking Aurors, would conduct the evaluation during the Yule Recess. And so, the month of December brought the ninth and final Fall session and an overdue respite from court drama. But it also saw a new, more enjoyable, cause for stress. Yule.

Within the first ten minutes of his holiday shopping excursion, Harry Potter had to take a moment’s pause and remind himself that he had in fact, left the castle. Shopping on the first day of the Yule break was rather reminiscent of being at Hogwarts, only on a larger scale. It also involved individuals who were as likely to mob him for an autograph or try to smother him with pity about his time in the Muggle world as they were to yell abuse about his association with Dark Wizards.

It was almost like dealing with a couple dozen Cho Changs and a handful of Gryffindor upperclassmen, only without the benefit of the privacy ward and stinging hex he and his friends had come to rely on at school. “Thank Merlin your parents are here,” he whispered to Draco when they finally made it into the first shop they planned to visit.

Grey eyes locked on his for only a second before the taller boy nodded. The brunette didn’t need to expound on what he meant. Draco knew. The presence of Lord and Lady Malfoy, after all, was perhaps the only reason they weren’t literally being mobbed. Those who didn’t respect the Noble couple for their station and wealth, half feared them for their former political affiliations. It created a much-needed buffer between the famous boy-hero and the adoring – or hateful – public.

The young wizard in question had known before they left the Manor that he would have to brave the crowds to get his shopping done, but he had not fully grasped how bad it would be. He was sure that if he didn’t have a half dozen people to buy for that meant so much to him, he would probably have floo’d back to the Manor within minutes of arriving in the shopping district.

There were several different points, however, at which he considered doing it anyway. The first was whilst shopping with Draco, Neville, and Augusta when he was distracted every other minute by the pointing and whispering of the crowds. It took so much concentration to pick out gifts for the two elder Malfoys that he was exhausted by the time the Longbottoms split off, leaving he and Draco with his parents to search for gifts for the Dowager and her grandson.

Harry felt a brief return of energy when he argued with his best friend over whether or not Sirius would appreciate the present the brunette had picked out. “There’s a stag in this forest set, and a dog in this pet set, and that mythic monster set has a werewolf in it. He’s told me about their animal alters three dozen times. I think he might like them.”

“They’re children’s toys, Harry,” Draco pointed out yet again with a faint sneer.

“You’re saying Sirius is too mature for them? Really?” Green eyes blinked several times in the resulting silence, then crinkled with the smile the young wizard couldn’t hold back at the abashed look that eventually crossed his friend’s face.

The cheerful success of finding something for his Godfather was short-lived. It didn’t take long for the cobbled side streets of Diagon, with its multitude of little Yule trees perched atop the storefront signs, to grow far too congested. The presence of the Second-Time-Savior was no doubt a contributing factor to the increased crowds so he was more than a little relived when the groups met back up and decided to floo over to Hogsmeade to complete their shopping.

The tiny Scottish town, free as it was from student traffic during the holiday, was a respite in more ways than one. Not only had word not yet spread through the snow-dusted streets that the famous boy was there, but in none of the shops that they had been in on the Alley had he been able to find the single most important gift he was looking for. Therefore, after a quick lunch in the Three Broomsticks, the small brunette eagerly, if tiredly, set off with Neville and his grandmother to begin the search for Draco’s gift.

An hour and a half later, he played musical chaperons one more time and split off with only Narcissa. He would have held his fingers crossed in his pockets if they weren’t so stiff from the cold. That cold had left his nose red and runny before he’d had any luck. The Potter heir had to fight the urge to run his gloved hand through his messy black locks for the forth time in as many minutes when they left yet another store without anything to show for it. The blonde Lady would only admonish him to straighten his hair and calm himself if he did. And she had already done that twice in the last quarter hour.

Even after he had finally been successful, the stress of picking out the perfect gift for his first ever friend was stronger than he could ever remember it. Which, of course, was unsurprising since he had spent all of his pre-Hogwarts years hidden at the Manor and his first-year confined in the castle. In the past, he had always shopped through Narcissa or owl order catalogs. This was entirely different, he came to realize.

Having to find it himself, and having far more options to choose from, had made it a daunting task indeed. The task had not been made easier by the strange looks his guardian had aimed at him several times over the afternoon as he debated with her and himself about which gift suited Draco best.

From the frazzled look on the youngest blond’s face and the curious way his father watched him as they all met up to travel back to the Longbottom estate for dinner, Harry had the impression that Draco had suffered a similar experience. The idea of someone caring about him enough to stress over picking out his gift in such a way left a warm feeling in his chest that only grew warmer as traditional Yule celebrations and rituals filled the holiday break. It lingered even as they returned to school in January, but it had faded into a vague sense of calm by the time February came.

That calm was necessary for the Wizengamot’s Winter Season, when the investigation into prisoners at Azkaban resulted in the need for three re-trials and two trials that had apparently never happened in the first place. One of the former made little difference as the original sentence was upheld, but the two other re-trials resulted in one sentence being reduced and the other extended by more than a decade. The two new trials were likewise different in their outcomes. One saw a young Muggle-born released on lack of evidence, and another ended with a Death Eater being given the Kiss.

Draco was unaware of the reason his friend managed to get through to the Wizengamot’s Ostara Recess in March without liberal use of Dreamless Sleep or stress relief draughts. But whatever it had been, the blond was very thankful for the other heir’s respite. He was even more relieved, however, when first the Winter Season, and then the school year, finally came to a close. It would be fantastic to have his best friend to himself again, Draco admitted as they boarded the Hogwarts Express only two weeks after his thirteenth birthday.

The birthday hadn’t been anything like what the boys had been used to when they were young, but knowing his parents, Malfoy Manor would host a party to celebrate the belated event within days of their arrival. Laughter and games soon prevailed on the extensive Manor grounds, leaving trials, re-trials, and reform bills behind them. If only, Harry thought the second week of summer vacation, they could leave all essays and reading assignments behind as well.

“Do you think,” the brunette asked on a sigh, “I could ask for a week without tutors for my birthday this year?”

Grey eyes darted up from the open pages of the history book they had been given to read that week. “Do not dare waste a perfectly good birthday request on that, Harry. You would be about as likely to get that as you would a week without discussion of the next reform the Malfoy/Potter bloc will be submitting next month.”

The twelve-year-old let out a heavy sigh and bent back over his own text. The vacation had so far featured as many tutors and court sessions as the one before it, so the situation was hardly a surprising one. Or an overwhelming one. More than a week or two without something to learn, whatever its subject, had been foreign to him in the years he had lived at the Manor. He was used to this, and it wasn’t so unbearable, really. But a few weeks off still sounded great.

Not that they spent all their time in the library. In fact, without the pressure or sense of a looming deadline that had characterized the previous summer, the two boys were able to enjoy what downtime they had in a way they hadn’t since before they started Hogwarts. At least a couple hours a day saw the best friends almost recounting their early years together.

They played with Polaris as they once had, though now they chased his babies rather than him. And they entertained themselves with the now elderly peacock’s attempts to intimidate some of the younger birds, including one of the few full-color versions of the albino avian. They also hid in the center of the maze as they often did when they were younger. Instead of playing fort or practicing wand movements, however, they now debated Quidditch or studied the Noble Protocols. Overall, it was far more relaxed a vacation after their second year at the castle than it had been after their first.

The start of the next school year was likewise slightly less stressful, and more hopeful considering further progress had been made by the Board and Flitwick’s new administration, that had managed to inch the school’s operation and education a few more steps closer to the version the Founders had left behind them. That wasn’t to say their third year was without drama. There was still the issue of fans and critics in the hallways, though even the first-years appeared forewarned by their older classmates, as not a single person tried to physically invade the famous boy’s personal space as they had the previous years.

The most dramatic point in the year came during its most restful. Hogwarts’ Yule break saw snowball fights and piles of presents beneath soaring trees and homework finished in record time. Draco and Harry both had taken great enjoyment from the looks on the faces of the Lord and Lady Malfoy when they had arrived at the Manor for their holiday and were able to tell the adults that they had already completed all their holiday assignments. The arched brows and suspicious glances had been worth the frantic rush between the handing out of the essays and the completion of the train ride home.

It was even more worth it when they were able to spend every moment of the break racing their brooms over snow capped trees and spending hours at a time playing with the many toys and kits and completely un-educational items they each received for Yule. Even the dinner they attended at Sirius’ temporary home in Dovetown couldn’t ruin the carefree weeks in the middle of their third year, despite the inherently tense atmosphere around the wizard who, while medically cleared, was still more than a little damaged by his time in Azkaban.

The only moment the revelry was threatened was when the Lord Black mentioned his reluctant agreement to let Harry remain at the Manor rather than move in with him. The relocation of the Potter heir had been a pall over the entire month of November, the former Marauder having been medically cleared to fully assume both his title and his guardianship of his godson on the first of that month.

Draco and his mother’s previous, and ongoing, efforts to convince Sirius that Harry would be better off staying where he was already happy and comfortable had played a large part in the man allowing the continuance of the status quo. Though the three blonds were also of the opinion that a solid year in therapy had left the Black Lord at least silently aware of the fact that parenting was neither his strong suit nor an activity he would particularly enjoy.

Whatever had ensured it, Black’s forfeiture of his guardianship was cause for further merriment over the holiday. Upon returning to the castle, both boys were able to squeeze every bit of fun out of the first month of 1993. Eventually, the reality of Noble duties and a student’s responsibilities somewhat eroded their frivolity. By the start of February, court was back in session and classes had begun to bury them in parchment. The Founders’ meeting room more often than not echoed with the furious scratching of quills instead of jokes and chess games.

There was one other activity, which occurred beneath the gazes of those four famous Magicals, and it was usually characterized by the reading and writing of letters to and from the various Potter Proxies as well as the Lord Black. For all that Sirius finally being declared mentally fit enough to take control of his title should have decreased the stress of being linked to so many House Seats on the court, the change had much less effect than predicted. Both good and bad.

The famous boy’s Godfather had healed much in the year since his release, but undertaking his Noble responsibilities was ever so slightly beyond his capabilities, no matter what officially occurred. The Potter Proxy was technically transferred to Narcissa when she gave the Black Proxiship to its rightful Lord, leaving Lucius with only the Peverell votes to manage. However, the day-to-day operations of the Malfoy/Potter voting bloc stayed more or less the same.

The largest difference was that instead of his Proxies giving recommendations to Harry, and him giving the final decision as to how his votes and the influence of his House was managed within the court, such recommendations and decisions for the Black vote now needed to be filtered, through Harry, to Sirius for the official ‘decision.’ The extra step was not a huge one, but it was one that added a fair amount of stress to the later half of the young brunette’s third year. The Black Lord was medically sane, but functionally a challenge to manage as he operated largely on his wildly fluctuating emotions.

Godric himself mitigated some of the stress. As did the culmination of another summer of Board meetings and a full year of his attentions as a Founder’s Heir, which finally managed to wake the occupants of the other Founders’ master portraits. The Founders were a deep font of priceless knowledge and advice for the overwhelmed young wizard. Stilted as the speech and movement of the newly awakening three remained. The centuries that lay between the honored Magicals and their surviving heir created a unique perspective to his actions and views that his contemporaries and opponents in the Wizengamot sometimes could not see coming. Needless to say, the coming year would see much change in the lives of the two most well-known students in the school. Though, perhaps for a different reason than many would suspect.


	2. The Love of a Friend

Only weeks before they were due to board the train to Hogwarts for their fourth year, Draco and Harry found themselves growing restless in the large mansion they called home. It had been unseasonably warm for a week and the boys had spent all their time inside for days, leaving them more than a little eager to get outside, or at least somewhere different. To that end, the best friends left their usual haunts of sitting room, library, to make their way to the small private chapel attached to the Manor. It had been added when the mansion had been updated in the thirteen hundreds, a time when every wealthy landowner had had their own chapel for the use of the main family and its retainers.

After the historical practice and context had been explained to Harry, the brunette had quickly taken a liking to the building during his first year with the Malfoys. His favorite aspect of it had been, and remained, the huge stained-glass windows, which depicted various Arthurian and Magical figures from Wizarding culture and history. Not only were they expertly rendered and beautiful to look at, but the figures had helped the eight-year-old come to grips with the idea of actually, truly, possessing a family and cultural history of his own after spending years being alone and unwanted. The images still provided both those benefits to the orphan hero, but at the moment he was more concerned with the way they diffused the painfully hot sunlight. Well, that and the way that light passed through the colorful panes and splashed brilliantly across the stone floor.

Green eyes had immediately locked on the windows when they’d entered, but after a few minutes he had noticed that instead of admiring the color of light through the glass as he usually did, he was instead noticing the way the colors reflected in Draco’s pale blond hair. Not that he hadn’t noticed from time to time over the years that his best friend was often flattered by this outfit or that dress robe. But this observation felt different. Harry had the sudden and strange desire to run his fingers through the pale, light-stained strands to see if the light also warmed them to the touch. No doubt his neck and face would be warm from their trek to the chapel. _How would the warm skin feel against my palm, I wonder? Would it feel different where the bright colors rest?_

The train of thought derailed as it occurred to the young wizard exactly what he had been thinking about. Despite having admired his friend over the years, especially this last one, and despite having felt a particularly sharp sense of satisfaction in Draco’s single-minded attention which he distantly suspected was not the most normal reaction between friends, that particular thought struck him with an unexpected feeling of awkwardness.

The brunette felt his own face grow warmer than the exercise could account for as the previous questions echoed repeatedly through his head. Had he really just thought that? Why on earth was he wondering such a thing? That wasn’t really normal to ask about one’s friend, was it? No, of course not. They were the best of friends, and had been most of their lives, but even their closeness didn’t adequately explain such a thought. Yet why did a part of him still want to know, even after the absurdity of the questions was so clear to him? The inappropriateness.

Yes, Harry told himself, wanting to know what one’s friend’s skin felt like was a little inappropriate. Even more so than the vague observations of the blond’s general attractiveness or the indistinct pleasure he had noticed feeling when the taller boy held him or protected him from his crazy fans. He had been growing somewhat used to those things over the previous year or two. But this. What on earth was this?

Before he could come close to answering the many confusing queries, he saw Draco looking at him. Every thought was immediately replaced with a fervent hope that he hadn’t been staring. He almost shook his head. Of course he had been staring, he thought to himself with a mental sneer. He swallowed the self-deprecating thought before it began to show on his face. Maybe Draco hadn’t noticed that he was staring. That was possible. Surely.

In a desperate attempt to divert his thoughts and distract the taller boy, Harry choked out a few questions about some of the details in the images of Merlin and Arthur, which he couldn’t remember being covered in their history lessons.

With only a moment’s hesitation where grey orbs narrowed just slightly in his direction, the Malfoy heir began explaining the significance of the shield Arthur stood on, the reason Merlin was shown with a staff rather than a wand, and the reason Arthur was not depicted with any Magical focus at all. Then the blond moved on to the matching broaches each wizard wore.

“Broaches had much more meaning in the centuries during and after the Roman invasion of Britain when the use of the broach became much more wide-spread. Until the nine hundreds, matching broaches were often used instead of the now traditional promise rings when a couple had moved past the official Courting stage of a relationship.”

Harry’s thoughts stuttered to a halt even more rapidly than they had when he’d caught himself thinking about his best friend in a way he shouldn’t have. “You mean, Merlin and Arthur were… were _courting_?”

The other boy blinked for a moment, apparently unprepared for either the question, or the shocked tone in which it had been asked. “Well,” he answered, cocking his head slightly to the side, “no. And yes. Technically they were a couple, of course, but they couldn’t go through all the stages of a Formal Courtship. It is not wholly clear in the documents if they ever actually went through the Consideration stage. After all, Arthur had already made a very public political marriage with Gwenhwyar at that point.”

Harry was not sure if he was more surprised by fact the two famous wizards were a couple or the fact that his ancestor had such a well-known marital affair. He remained rather wrapped up in that piece of information, even as he listened to Draco explain that such arrangements were not terribly uncommon at the time the noted Magicals lived.

“Of course, they both needed heirs, and the new Queen hardly cared. Lancelot was in a political match of his own, after all, so his presence at court allowed her to be with her lover even though she was legally married to the Pendragon. Arthur was married to her for the good of the kingdom, and was in love with Merlin. Gwenhwyar was married to Arthur for the good of the kingdom and her family, and was in love with Lancelot.”

Draco shrugged at his friend’s expression before he continued. “They both were able to maintain the necessary legal ties and give the kingdom an heir while still being with the person they wanted. It wasn’t like anyone was sneaking around. They just maintained the proper connections and image in public and lived their own lives in private. Merlin fathered his own heir, though admittedly, Maeve was able to accommodate her friend and colleague without the marriage Arthur and Lancelot both had to undergo.”

Harry stuttered his way through a repeat of almost everything that had just been said, needing to make sure he understood and hadn’t read into what had been said. Not that there was much to read into. It had been a pretty straight-forward explanation. The blond certainly thought so, his expression clearly bewildered as he confirmed one piece of information after another. As he finished, however, the grey eyes grew unexpectedly guarded, his face uncertain.

“Does… does Merlin and Arthur being together, does that bother you? I mean, you don’t think there is anything _wrong_ with that… do you?”

The nervous tone unsettled the brunette in a way he couldn’t identify, but before he could even try to do so, he found himself blurting out an emphatic “No!” without even processing what it was he meant to say.

The Potter heir didn’t notice the way Draco’s shoulders dropped in relief or the look his best friend shot him, too busy making sense of what he’d just realized. In the seconds after he had nearly yelled his denial of being bothered by Merlin and Arthur having a romantic relationship with one another, it occurred to Harry. Merlin and Arthur, two of Magical history’s most important and revered figures, had been in a relationship. They had loved each other. Romantically.

Two wizards could, and had, loved each other in the past, the brunette thought furiously. And few if any had seen a problem with it. It was possible for a wizard to have non-platonic feelings for another wizard. So it would be fairly normal, or at least acceptable, for a wizard, such as himself, to have feelings, or a crush, on another wizard. An urge to touch or hold someone he had a crush on was not shocking or inappropriate.

Half formed thoughts and images that had been floating around the back of his mind for months suddenly took a clear shape. A shape that looked exactly like Draco. He liked Draco. He noticed the things he did, felt the way he did about his friend because he liked him. As _more_ than a friend. And there wasn’t anything wrong with that.

The revelation hit the boy-hero harder than a blasting hex, leaving him feeling rather unsteady for the rest of the day. And for a few days after that. Being aware of what he was actually feeling left said feelings hard to ignore. He had to force himself to not act on those feelings, or even allow them to show however. He was sure that as acceptable as they might be in the abstract, that didn’t mean that it would be okay for him to actually do anything about them. Draco did not feel that way about _him_ , after all. They were just friends.

_Merlin’s beard, we’re practically like brothers._ That thought was as clear to him as all the others. Yet, as he had in the chapel, over the last few weeks before the new term started, Harry actively noticed things about his friend. And he noticed how they affected him in ways they hadn’t before.

Like the way the blond looked when he stumbled into the sitting room first thing in the morning, something that was happening more often as he became increasingly reticent to allow his friend to help in the same way when his nightmares crept up. The brunette had, in fact, utilized the privacy charmed items they’d used at school to project more than one silencing charm before going to bed in order to prevent the other boy from hearing him and coming to help like he usually would. He was fourteen now, after all, and he could handle what nightmares he had on his own now. Well, not completely on his own, as Excalibur was as helpful as he had always been, if not a little annoyed with his master for confining him to their room at night so as to prevent him from fetching Draco when the nightmares were more extreme.

The conflicting thoughts and impulses followed the smaller boy to school where certain things only worsened with them sharing a dorm. Keeping Excalibur with him was almost impossible and he eventually resorted to introducing him to another Kneazle that lived in the castle in order to distract him somewhat with a nocturnal partner with whom to hunt. He had also taken to putting charms on his bed hangings to block the sounds of his nightmares. Which, he determined, must have been more common than he thought because he was pretty sure Draco had started doing the same thing several months into the school year without mentioning it.

Harry thought to ask Neville about it at one point, but had put it off. His friend had been watching him with an almost suspicious air for much of their fourth year. So much so that he worried for a few days if the other boy had picked up on something odd about the way he looked at or interacted with the blond.

The idea that their friend had noticed such a thing caused the brunette a small amount of panic, his mind immediately conjuring scenes of something being said that left Draco feeling odd or uncomfortable around him afterward. He knew his best friend wouldn’t be upset on principle, the other boy’s opinion on Merlin and Arthur during the summer made that clear. But the specifics of the situation were another matter altogether. In that Harry liked Draco specifically, and knew the blond would probably feel weird to learn that his best friend saw him differently than the Malfoy heir himself saw his dorm-mate and childhood friend.

Draco’s friendship had meant too much to Harry for too long to ever allow him to risk it. The Potter heir couldn’t imagine not having him there every night before he went to bed, or joking with him as they dressed for class each day. Despite that, he had eventually decided on asking Neville something about how standard casting silencing charms on one’s bed curtains happened to be, just so he knew how worried he would need to be should Draco ever ask him why he had done so.

After all, the larger boy had been giving Draco much the same odd looks as he had Harry, which eventually convinced the brunette that said looks had to be about something else. After all, there wouldn’t be a reason for Neville to suspect Draco of the types of thoughts he himself was struggling with. Draco only saw Harry as a friend, therefore, that was not the problem and likely was not one that was even worth worrying over.

The attempt to talk with the Longbottom heir, however, was short lived and consisted mostly of an awkward attempt to form the question he needed answered before fleeing the room. Neville watched him go, smiling as Draco entered the room a few minutes later asking if he’d seen Harry. It was all the other boy could do not to laugh at the disappointed look on the blond’s face when he was told the shorter boy had left not long before. Neville held it in until Draco had uttered a halfhearted excuse about why he needed to go look for the brunette and fled with almost as much haste as the smaller wizard had.

Draco didn’t hear the sounds of mirth, too occupied looking for his best friend and wondering why he had not come to Godric’s room as they had planned. The Malfoy heir wondered if that meant Harry was upset for some reason. He steadfastly ignored the deeply buried hope that the smaller boy might be, or rather, that Harry’s being upset might give him an excuse to hold the brunette. He had rarely been able to do that so far this year. However horrible it could be to actually half wish something was bothering his best friend, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t take advantage of the opportunity when he finally tracked down the pensive looking fourth-year in their dorm room. Before he even had to think about what he was doing, the blond was across the room and holding each of the brunette’s shoulders in his hands as he asked what was bothering him.

For his part, Harry couldn’t help but savor the weight of those two hands despite keeping his gaze steadfastly away from the worried grey orbs. He had been avoiding much of any physical contact with his best friend for fear of revealing too much or making the other boy uncomfortable by reacting the wrong way. Yet now, he let the touch calm him for as long as he thought he could get away with. Then, reluctantly, he shrugged him off with what he hoped was a casual assurance that nothing was wrong, and turned back to the lecture notes he had been listlessly organizing when Draco arrived.

A few moments passed in silence before the taller boy asked about the notes. As they discussed the lectures in question, the brunette silently scolded himself for hoping his friend’s determination to check on him actually meant something more than that he was his best friend. Yet he couldn’t ignore that Draco continued to be as physically demonstrative of their friendship as they had been when they were younger, despite what he could see was a clear lack of such in their peers.

_It’s just that we grew up together_ , he reminded himself none too gently. They had always been best friends, and being so close was perfectly normal behavior in those circumstances. Of course Draco hadn’t changed his behavior, he still saw Harry as his best friend, exactly the same way he always had. After all, the blond had had no reason for that to change. It was a ridiculous hope that the touches lingered, or lasted longer than they used to, and that was purely a result of his own change in perception, not Draco’s.

Physical contact with the Malfoy heir felt like more to him simply because such contact meant more to him. It was not because Draco in any way intended them to mean more, he was simply reading too much into it. In short, he needed to stop being such a dunderhead and forget these useless feelings. All they were doing was making things difficult and awkward between him and the first friend he had ever had. And needlessly so. He had to stop.

And yet, that was easier said than done. No matter what he promised himself about keeping some physical distance between them until he could convince his stomach not to flip about at the blond’s proximity, he still couldn’t make himself discourage such touches and closeness. He didn’t want to hurt Draco, or make him feel like anything had changed. Before the revelations of the chapel, he would have thought nothing about sitting so close, so there was no reason to make a big deal out of it now.

And he tried his very best to do so. He managed somewhat well, he was pretty sure, by the time they were studying together for end of year exams in the small garden area at the school. They had found the secluded little spot early in the year and watched it for a few weeks to make sure no one else used it before they commandeered it for their own. Every once in a while Godric’s room became too confining, after all, no matter how much they all valued the companionship and advice available from the master portraits there. The other Founders were becoming more and more active every week, their speech and movement more and more fluid and natural, and he was sure that they would be as lively as Godric by the next year.

But even so, fresh air was nice on occasion. So they had worked together over the course of a fortnight to place spells and wards discreetly to ensure they’d have the spot to themselves. And they did. No one had ever bothered them there. Perhaps that was why Harry had finally let his guard down enough to be taking entirely too much enjoyment out of the way his best friend had thoughtlessly squeezed himself onto the bench beside the brunette and pressed close enough for the both of them to read from the book he had checked out of the library to study for their upcoming Transfiguration exam.

When Neville arrived to study with them a short while later, it was to find the two boys huddled closely at stone table, sharing the text and discussing what they read in low tones. So as not to disturb the quiet of the garden, Harry insisted to himself when he noticed what they had been doing. Though even he didn’t quite believe that. With a squirming sensation in his gut and a fierce hope that his lapse in composure wasn’t obvious, Harry pulled away and managed to put a little distance between them. It was time to move on to Charms anyway, and they all had different books to look over for that.

The small brunette tried so hard to ignore his own blush and act as nonchalantly as possible while staring fixedly at the new tome he was opening that he missed entirely the knowing smile the Longbottom heir cast back and forth between the other two boys. That same knowing look made an appearance on the young wizard’s face many times over the coming summer and was so large at the three birthday celebrations that Neville himself started drawing suspicious looks from the various adults. Though Snape’s looks were more or less reserved for the blond and brunette and were less suspicious than they were suffering.

Harry, though somewhat preoccupied with taking up the reigns of his titles now that he was fifteen and could do so under the oversight of his Proxies, occasionally noticed the looks. The glances left him anxious when saw them aimed in his direction, and confused when he saw them focused on Draco. The blond seemed oblivious no matter who was the subject of the suspect attention.

Even the Malfoy heir, however, would have seen the knowing smirks or suspicious stares by the end of the summer if he weren’t so preoccupied with the topic of conversation which prompted the majority of them. Marriage. Or rather, the highly structured interaction that traditionally preceded marriage in Magical Society. With the process being so drawn out and codified, possible matches were discussed and culled through by around age fifteen or sixteen so that there was sufficient time to decide on a partner and then complete said process before they were too long out of Hogwarts.

It was a significant investment of time and effort to begin Courting, and if the first choice did not prove successful, a second attempt could stretch things out enough that the vast majority of Pure-bloods had whittled a list of possibilities down to no more than three by the end of their sixth year. It should therefore not have been a surprise to either boy when the Malfoy Lord and Lady began debating with them and each other what names might be included on a preliminary list for each young wizard.

Yet, the topic had caught them both completely off guard, and neither had participated in the discussions with any enthusiasm. That seemed to have startled the elder blondes. Then they had grown quiet. Then the looks had started to increase in frequency and duration. Not that Draco appeared to notice. He certainly took notice, however, when the smaller brunette brought up the subject at the end of the summer vacation as the two friends wandered through the maze to the other side, where it let out into a less manicured area with trees and flowering bushes on the edge of the Quidditch pitch.

“I don’t want to make a list,” Harry said without warning, his green eyes darting to and away from his best friend, then drifting restlessly over the green hedge walls around them. “I don’t think…” the boy-hero sat on the swing that was suspended from the leafy arbor overhead. “I don’t think I want to get married.”

There was a beat of silence during which Harry kept his gaze steadfastly ahead where the verdant walls ended, refusing to look at the blond. He simply swung slightly back and forth, the movement reminding Draco of all the times they had played on the swing when they were younger.

“I don’t think I do either,” the Malfoy heir admitted softly, finally drawing the other’s gaze.

The brunette swallowed noticeably before responding with a joking tone that didn’t hide the nervousness underneath. “None of the girls they want to put on your list good enough, eh?”

Draco took a deep breath, appearing to come to some kind of decision about something before he walked around the swing so he was facing the first friend he’d ever made.

“No girl would be good enough,” the blond said in complete seriousness before stepping forward and halting the other boy’s soft back and forth motion on the swing. So slowly it almost looked like he was waiting for the smaller wizard to stop him, Draco took hold of the swing’s ropes, one in either hand.

The look in the grey eyes held Harry still as much as the hands holding the swing did. He couldn’t move at all when the young wizard standing in front of him looked down into green eyes and whispered, “I- I don’t want a girl.”

There was a combination of trepidation and something else in the blond’s eyes which seemed to silently dare his friend to ask what he meant. Harry wanted to ask but he was still frozen. The only thing that he was able to move were his eyes, which dropped of their own volition to stare at the pink lips above him. Something else moved then, again without his permission as his tongue darted out to wet his own lips. Draco made a small, helpless noise and darted forward before the wizard on the swing could process that he had moved.

Harry’s brain never quite caught up with that movement. It was far too busy taking in the sensation of a set of lips pressed firmly to his. The task took almost an hour, the brunette’s mind overwhelmed as it was with continuous sensory input as the unexpected kiss was followed by another and another. When they pulled apart the first time, both were panting and wide eyed as they waited for the other to say something. Protest perhaps, or express apology or regret for what had happened.

The silence dragged on until it was Harry who darted quickly forward and up, to meet the panting lips hovering so temptingly just out of reach. In the same instant a tanned hand reached out and grasped a pale neck to pull it down towards him. Another noise escaped one of the pairs of occupied lips, though it was impossible to tell which one. The two young wizards weren’t capable of telling much of anything about anything aside from the taste they were so determinedly familiarizing themselves with.

Nothing else really mattered. Not the dropping temperature or the setting sun. Not the reading they were supposed to be doing before the summer lesson scheduled for the next day. Certainly not the list of witches’ names the Lord and Lady of the Manor had given them to think on when they had left the dinning table a few hours before. By the time they made it inside, just before full dark, they had made one decision and two very important observations.

First, they both decided that they would not be making a list to provide in a few days as Narcissa had requested. Second and third, they had noticed that the swing at the end of the maze would not sit two, but that they were both better at strengthening and repair charms than they had previously thought.


	3. Making it Official

If he were to be asked, Harry Potter would eventually, after much blushing and stammering, admit that he was thrilled with how things between himself and his best friend had changed after the day at the maze swing. Yet he would also admit that change had made some things harder. Since everything had happened on the second to last day of their vacation, the two boys had only remained at the Manor for a single day before boarding the train for their fifth year at Hogwarts.

And since they had both been rather overwhelmed by what had happened and what it meant for them, that twenty-four hours had been spent in their own heads and hadn’t required any real subterfuge in order to keep the change private. Though each boy’s refusal to discuss the list of witches the adults wanted to start may have raised a few eyebrows in the Manor. Narcissa had regarded the raven-haired wizard with narrowed blue eyes when she asked him the next morning if he had given any thought to his list like she had asked. Harry had cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly, his own gaze fixed pointedly on his breakfast plate.

“I had planned to wait until the new term settled down first. At least until the Summer Court Season has finished.” Pale blue orbs narrowed even further and he rushed to continue before his legal guardian could say anything in response.

“It has all been rather overwhelming, assuming my titles, even with the oversight of my Proxies. And,” the Potter heir swallowed the knot attempting to form in his throat, “I do not believe I will be able to give the matter the serious thought it deserves while I am so preoccupied with the Wizengamot and school.”

A heavy silence descended on the table as both elder Malfoys regarded the brunette for several long moments before pinning their own son with the weight of their combined stares. The young blond avoided their eyes as pointedly as his best friend had, then took a deep breath as subtly as he could. “This is the last day of summer vacation, do we really have to have this conversation now? Can we not just enjoy it? I think Harry has the best idea, waiting until we are sufficiently settled at the castle.”

The Lord Malfoy kept his attention locked on his heir as the Lady of the Manor looked back and forth between her son and the boy she had considered her son for the last eight years. Harry may technically be her ward now, but she had raised him since he was seven. With a barely notable nod, as if the witch were confirming a previous suspicion, she placed her napkin on her cleared plate.

“Perhaps we should return to this topic in a few weeks’ time,” the Lady said hesitantly. Her blue gaze caught and held her husband’s when it snapped to her face at the words. Another few seconds of silence was soon broken by the elegant blonde as she glanced from one fifteen-year-old to another. “In the mean time, I believe we can best utilize that time by considering… expanding, our lists of _witches_.”

The teens were so relieved that they did not notice the way Lucius’ eyes narrowed further, then widened as he took in his wife’s careful wording. He nodded to her and cleared his throat with the subtle silence neither boy had been able to manage. “Yes, there are, perhaps, a good number of… others…. which can be added if that is what suites one, or both, of you best.”

Both soon-to-be fifth-years finally looked up with a clear hint of relief on their otherwise composed features. Not waiting for any conversation to pick back up, the wizards politely excused themselves from the breakfast table and hurried with all the dignity possible to their sitting room to enjoy the last hours of their summer.

For all that they had only delayed the inevitable awkward conversation, they had still escaped the confines of Malfoy Manor without anyone else knowing what had happened at the swing, or what that occurrence had meant for their friendship. That trend, with only one short complication, continued at the school, as a late night conversation between the blond and brunette had resolved their intentions to keep their new relationship private for the foreseeable future. The one complication had been, of course, Neville Longbottom. The sandy-haired young wizard had entered their train compartment, taken one knowing look at them sitting side-by-side and refusing to meet his gaze, and asked with a smirk when they had finally gotten together.

After the shock and annoyance had faded, and a stumblingly brief answer had been given, the three boys had settled down in their privacy-warded compartment and enjoyed their ride to Hogsmeade. Though, given their appearance when Neville had returned from his prefect’s meeting, Harry and Draco had enjoyed the trip quite a bit more than their friend had. The school year did not quite follow that pattern as circumstances seemed to conspire against them to prevent the new couple from having any significant time together.

They may have used Harry’s limited assumption of his titles as an excuse to not talk about the Courtship list, but the task was in actuality a stressful and time consuming one. Upon seeing how much more time and effort the brunette was putting into his management of his Houses’ votes Draco was a little relieved that he would not be required to do the same any time soon. The nominal Lord to the Houses of Potter, Peverell, and Gryffindor, and the heir to the House of Black was often required to attend court session, though his age and status as a student allowed his Proxies to continue operating on his behalf during some of the school year.

Still, the requirements of his position as the last of three respected House lines, were more than a little inconvenient for the new couple. Yet, Draco couldn’t argue with the importance of those duties. Even the added tasks needed to continue advancing their agenda, were hard to resent, as much as he wanted to for taking his boyfriend away from him so often. The young blond wizard had known and agreed that such steps would be needed and had even been involved in much of the pre-planning over the years.

It was indisputable that the combined strength of their voting bloc would be used to force through the reforms they had agreed were so badly needed in the Wizarding World. Harry himself had agreed with that before he had really understood what all changes were to be made or why. The specifics hadn’t mattered much to him when he had first stumbled upon the Magical world. Knowing that the reforms were aimed at undoing the so-called progress that had been spearheaded and orchestrated by Albus Dumbledore had been all he had needed to know.

When the Potter heir had learned enough to grasp those specifics, he had lain awake quite a few nights discussing with Draco all the great things they would accomplish when they got older. Well, the blond told himself silently, they were older now and it was time to make those dreams a reality. So he did not complain when his boyfriend spent hours reading and writing letters and discussing strategy with the Founders’ portraits.

Often enough, the taller fifth-year sat back, homework forgotten, and simply watched the other wizard’s face grow ever more animated as the brunette did his best to help his Proxies push through an amendment that ensured not teaching Magical children the roles of Nobles and the traditional House system in Wizarding society could, under certain circumstances, be a punishable offense. Such as purposefully leaving a Noble heir completely ignorant of his role and responsibilities to his Houses. As he had been.

The day that the motion had passed, the new couple had enjoyed a very spirited celebratory snog at one end of the large table in the Founders’ room while Neville had sat at the other end and tossed a privacy charm at them with a laugh. The celebration had not lasted nearly as long as Draco would have wanted. But, again, he could not protest the next item on their agenda. That item was a new law not only allowing, but encouraging, the assimilation of Muggle-borns and the protection of Wizarding culture.

It was a more than worthy cause, and one that would never stand a chance without the direct and blatant backing of the Second-Time-Savior. Although the Malfoy heir was annoyed that it meant hours of preparation and days of preoccupation, he was extremely proud of his best friend’s showing when the bespectacled fifth-year had addressed the court for the first time.

Draco hadn’t really needed to ask how things had gone when his dorm-mate had entered their dungeon rooms that evening. The flushed cheeks and bright green eyes had told him everything he needed to know about the success of Harry’s first speech to the Wizengamot as the official, if nominal, Lord of his three Houses. The brunette hadn’t apparently felt the need to discuss whether he had managed to present himself to the other Nobles as an individual with strong opinions who would not be led by any of them. The Potter heir did not seem to want to say if he or the other members of their bloc thought that he had come across as a powerful wizard in his own right, regardless of his age.

No, he had something far more important in mind for the evening, and his boyfriend could hardly argue priorities with his mouth otherwise occupied as it was. Not even when a sweep of the growing wizard’s arm sent the open History text off the bed and onto the floor. Draco was more than amenable to taking that space on the bed, with the slight weight of the Potter heir practically on top of him as they kissed.

The occasional word or two made it past busy lips, leaving the blond with the overall impression that the Boy-Who-Lived had made a very favorable impression indeed. The sudden interruption of the pre-set alarm on Draco’s wand indicating it was time to leave for their study session with Blaise was received rather less favorably.

Harry dropped his forehead onto the chest beneath his and let out a rough sigh. Grey eyes closed as his own head fell back onto his pillow. After a few long breaths in and out, they separated reluctantly, the brunette rolling off the taller body and slowly gaining his feet. Draco took the offered arm and pulled himself up, then went looking for his shoes with a silent stream of profanity aimed at the exams that were drawing ever closer. As much as he wished it were otherwise, neither of them could afford to slack off on their classwork or studying.

It was, after all, their OWL year, which posed a notable amount of pressure despite their tutors having more than prepared them to take the exams in every subject covered at the school, and a few more besides. There could be no chance of poor scores. Showing themselves to be dedicated and intelligent wizards in their own rights was an absolute necessity to their long-term goals and responsibilities.

And if that weren’t enough, there were also the ordinary year-end exams in the newly added classes. The new, or rather old, subjects had not been on the course schedule long enough for anything more. In fact, officials were still unearthing records of the OWLs at the Ministry in order to see what the courses had once covered and what they would need to test for.

Another complication was that, with the settling of his Magical Core having begun after his fifteenth birthday, Harry was finally able to start some of the stronger growth potions. He would still, of course, have to wait on the more invasive eye repair charms, but any noticeable improvement to his still small frame was a welcome one. It had taken years for his stomach, shrunken from more than five years of near starvation, to allow him to eat decent sized meals. Without the nutrition potions he had started taking when he arrived at the Manor, Harry was sure he would be a truly scrawny thing.

The downside of the potions, however, was that they had a tendency to cause tiredness and muscle aches while the body began the changes being forced upon it. In one way, the new regime was detrimental to the two young wizards exploring the new facet of their relationship. The Potter heir was often too tired and swamped with homework or Wizengamot matters to do more than exchange a handful of lingering kisses with his new boyfriend before bed.

In another way, Draco had to admit that it was a little bit helpful. He certainly couldn’t complain about the aching muscles providing the perfect excuse to give the growing brunette a massage or two. On those days, both Slytherins somehow managed to summon more than enough energy to explore their physical boundaries. At least somewhat briefly.

The teens, surprisingly enough, had the self-control to mostly contain their amorous activities to evenings in their dorm. But the blond could hardly let his best friend suffer when he could provide some relief by working a knot or two out of his shoulders or legs in the privacy of Godric’s room, could he? That had a downside of its’ own, though. Which was the tendency for their other friend to interrupt such moments, or the tender but occasionally steamy ones that followed.

Other than lighthearted expressions of annoyance and the insistence that such things cease upon his arrival, Neville took the change in his friends’ relationship in stride. Not willing to risk the reaction of anyone else, however, Neville remained the only one they told at the castle. Not that they had actually had to tell him, as their friend had figured it out on his own without any aid or even more than a few seconds of thought upon first seeing them on the train. A fact which the new couple still found somewhat annoying.

There had been once, however, at the end of the year when one more name had almost been added to the list of those aware of the change between them. Draco and Harry had stayed late talking to Godric about how their OWL exams were progressing and been forced to make their way back to their dorm under the invisibility cloak which had been recovered from Dumbledore’s house before his trial. The physical proximity that was required for both of them to travel under the cloak unseen, especially after months of growth potions, resulted in a different kind of closeness entirely.

“Draco!” Harry hissed as quietly as possible when the blond stepped on his heel yet again. The other wizard muttered an apology, but the tone he used made it quite clear that Draco was anything but sorry. The brunette came to a sudden halt and turned to face his boyfriend with an annoyed huff. Before the movement had been completed, the huff turned into a gasp when the blond caught hold of the smaller Slytherin as they rounded a corner into one of the largest hallways in the expansive dungeons. Any other admonishment Harry might have given was cut off when the taller fifth-year pressed his boyfriend back up against the stone dungeon wall and kept him there with the weight of his own body.

Draco continued to press against him until every breath each took landed warm and moist on the other’s face. They held perfectly still, neither attempting to speak or put any distance between them. A full minute of silence passed, during which the teens’ breaths grew increasingly labored. When the blond finally broke the stalemate by raising his hand to cup the shorter wizard’s cheek, Harry’s heavy breathing caught in his throat. The small sound served to galvanize them both and all of a sudden they were kissing.

It wasn’t the sweet and sometimes lustful kisses they routinely exchanged. It was frenzied, desperate. Lips and teeth clashed and tongues battled. Every sense was focused exclusively on the taste and feel of the mouth underneath their own. Harry found it impossible to process, let alone appreciate, the amount of sensory input he was experiencing. And yet, it wasn’t enough.

The brunette clutched at the other young wizard’s shoulders but couldn’t maintain a strong enough hold while still fully participating in the frantic snog. He kept trying, grabbing hold of the blond’s neck, then his upper arms, then wrapping both arms around Draco to practically claw at his back. Harry lost his grip again when his arms slipped down and almost off of the other Slytherin. In his attempts to regain his hold, one of the tanned hands slipped under the disheveled shirt and landed on pale skin.

The skin on skin contact froze them both and they drew back almost simultaneously with sharply indrawn breaths. Green and grey locked, and the space under the invisibility cloak grew overheated from the heavy panting. It had been several months now since they had first kissed that day on the swing, and they had taken advantage of what time they had together to kiss and hold one another. And kiss. There had been an awful lot of kissing. But their physical relationship hadn’t really progressed much beyond that, consisting mostly of light petting, which had always occurred over the top of whatever clothing they were wearing at the time.

This, having Harry’s hand on the small of his back, underneath his shirt, was somehow completely different from everything they had done before. Which, a distant part of the blond’s brain mused, was ridiculous. It was only his back. But it still felt markedly more intimate, and he wanted more of it. Draco swallowed his hesitation and moved his hands from where they rested, one against the wall, the other buried in the messy black locks. He moved slowly, as much to give himself time to process what he was doing as to allow Harry to pull back or protest if he wanted.

The Potter heir remained steadfastly silent, though his emerald gaze seemed full of enough emotion to overwhelm that silence while he waited for those pale hands to reach their destination. He was familiar with them, of course, he would recognize the sight and feel of them in an instant, but they felt different as they pulled his shirttails from his trousers and slipped beneath. They felt warmer, more slender, more… well, just _more_.

Draco watched his best friend, his boyfriend, as his head fell back and his eyes fell shut. The gasp the smaller heir let out made his own breath catch in his throat. He couldn’t help making a noise of his own once his hands had splayed out against the warm, slightly sweaty skin of Harry’s back. The brunette quickly mirrored him, his free hand joining the other on pale skin. Both young wizards found their grip tightening against their will, pulling them closer once again.

The quasi-Lord flexed his hands, letting them drift just a little upwards along his boyfriend’s spine. As if in retaliation, the blond grasped onto Harry’s waist, just above where his pants rested on his hips. Then his hands moved as well. Instead of going up, they traveled around to the front, flattening out and covering most of the brunette’s lower abdomen. The sound released from the other fifth-year had Draco latching onto the parted lips. This time the kiss was slower, more sensual as hands began to explore new territory.

Draco’s well-tailored shirt kept Harry from reaching the top of the pale shoulder blades, and the shorter wizard contented himself with sweeping his hands up and down the planes of his boyfriend’s back. The lack of space between them hampered the blond as well, but in addition to running his hands along the stomach and chest of his best friend, the Malfoy heir was able to reach something even more new and exciting.

The first time his fingers brushed against a small, flat nipple, Draco wasn’t sure what had prompted the brunette to press closer. The second time, he was able to connect the small sound in the back of Harry’s throat with the cause. Slender fingers quickly took advantage of the opportunity to draw out the little moans by rubbing back and forth over them. After a minute or two, when the body beneath his was nearly vibrating and the tanned hands began to clutch tighter at his back, Draco gently pinched one and then the other.

Harry wrenched his mouth away from the blond with a soft cry, briefly burying his face in the taller Slytherin’s chest. The movement brought his lips into contact with the soft skin of Draco’s neck and he promptly started pulling his own small sounds from the blond. The Potter heir attacked the exposed skin with lips and tongue, and even teeth as he made his way from the base of his boyfriend’s neck to just below his jaw, then to under and slightly behind the pale ear and back down to the crook of his shoulder.

They were immersed in sensation once again, but fortunately for them, the two young wizards were not completely oblivious to their surroundings. It took several long seconds for the sound of approaching footsteps to register, but moments before the individual came around the corner, they realized what was happening.

They froze and flattened themselves against the wall as much as possible, even crouching down slightly to ensure that the cloak covered their feet. Quieting their breathing was more difficult and they both ended up literally holding their breath as their Head of House made his way swiftly past them. Being the largest hallway in the dungeons, the black-clad wizard did not come close enough to make any kind of contact. Yet about halfway down the hall, just as the couple were about to let out the breath they were holding, the Potions Master spun sharply on his heel and swept his gaze along what seemed to be every inch of space beneath the vaulted stone ceiling.

Harry and Draco’s hearts pounded in their chests, the rush of blood echoing in their ears even as Snape’s footsteps echoed in the corridor when their childhood potions tutor turned back around and continued on his way. The couple gasped in a lungful of oxygen as quietly as they could manage, exchanged a wide-eyed glance, and swiftly made for the entrance to the common room. It wasn’t until they had made it all the way into their dorm room and removed the cloak that they dared make a sound.

“Bloody hell!” Harry cursed.

“That was far, far too close,” Draco agreed as his best friend stored the cloak and faced him. His anxiety was mirrored on the other teen’s face. They were both so anxious, in fact, that a sudden low cry caused them to jump several inches. Another cry sounded as the tension bled out of them in overly exuberant laughter. The steel-grey cat cried again, looking entirely unimpressed with the humans’ performance.

As soon as he had calmed down enough to do so, Harry picked up Excalibur and carried him over to the nearest bed. It happened to be Draco’s but the blond didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow as his best friend situated himself on the mattress and proceeded to pet the Kneazle. In the few minutes it took Cal to purr himself to sleep under his master’s hand, the taller Slytherin had finished changing into this pajamas. Leaving his familiar to his rest, Harry followed suit and readied himself for bed.

He did not stretch out on his own bed, however, but resumed his position next to the cat and only inches from where the blond was sprawled atop the covers. One last chuckle escaped as Draco began to speculate as to how Severus Snape would have reacted had he caught them snogging in the halls after curfew. The brunette shook his head, not wanting to even contemplate such an occurrence. The topic, however, started him thinking about something else.

“Draco?” ventured the smaller teen.

“Hmm?” responded the blond, already half asleep.

“Do you think, I mean, maybe we should…”

Grey eyes opened and found green. “What?”

Harry bit his lower lip, then plunged forward. “When should we tell your parents?”

Draco sat up slightly, propping his weight on his elbows as his attention focused on the worried face. “Summer, I guess. I don’t really want to do it by owl. Probably as soon as we get home. I don’t really want to spend all summer…”

The Potter heir watched the blond brows lower slightly with a tense expression. Draco didn’t need to finish the statement for him to know exactly what his best friend was going to say. It had only been a week and a half since they had returned from Yule vacation, after all. The tension and awkwardness they had both felt when around the older couple had not been forgotten, especially when they had been forced to awkwardly put off the courting list yet again. They had discussed how they might reveal their relationship for most of the train to King’s Cross, but neither had worked up the courage to broach the subject over the brief holiday. Yet the idea of going through even another week of that was more than the brunette could stand and he promptly nodded to indicate his agreement.

The blond nodded back, then fell the rest of the way back onto the bed with a loud exhale. The mattress bounced slightly at the movement, disturbing the cat, who let out an annoyed hiss and leapt onto the floor. Harry smiled just a little at the agitated feline, then smiled a little more when he saw the affronted look on his boyfriend’s face.

“I think Cal is ready for bed,” he pointed out needlessly as a plaintive yowl came from behind the half-closed bed curtains a few yards away.

“And ready for you to join him,” Draco said ruefully.

Not wanting to listen to the ruckus that would result from ignoring his familiar, Harry leaned over to exchange a brief kiss with the blond before making his way over to his own bed and slipping inside. His best friend did the same and within minutes they were both drifting off to the rumbling purr of a contented Kneazle.

Excalibur was probably the only one feeling the least bit contented a few months later when the young couple disembarked the train and said goodbye to Neville and his grandmother. The Lord Black was under the weather and wasn’t with the elder Malfoys where they waited for the two young wizards at the back of the train platform. That was probably a good thing, as Harry was sure he would be incapable of making the kind of joking small talk that the former convict favored. It was all he could do to smile as the group Portkeyed to the Manor.

Neither Harry, nor Draco, could stop smiling two and a half hours later. Having decided to tell the elder blondes, the young couple wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. So before the Manor’s occupants had sat down to dinner, they all met in the same room where Narcissa had once taught them the etiquette of a formal tea. Steaming cups were waiting at five seats when they arrived.

Before Lord Malfoy could ask whom the extra seat was for, Severus Snape swept into the room behind a house elf that eagerly popped out the second it could. Inviting their Head of House and summer tutor had been something the two young wizards had debated for days. It was finally settled when Harry explained that although they had never grown close, the dour wizard remained the only real connection he had to his mother and that was why he thought he should be there.

The arrival of the Potions Master had not only surprised the other two adults, it had significantly increased the tension the teens felt. Every lesson they had ever had in the room was needed to maintain their composure as they settled themselves at the table. Those same lessons were no-where in evidence an hour later when the couple scrambled onto a deep chaise tucked away in a nook off the ballroom.

Those living at the Manor hardly ever came into that part of the house, so it was the perfect place to go for a little privacy. To make doubly sure they would have the space to themselves, Draco released the curtains that framed the nook. They were a mostly decorative feature, but if they kept their feet up, the cloth would fully conceal them on the chaise. Once they had been hidden, Harry pulled one of the charmed items out of his robe that they often used at school, and activated the built-in privacy wards. The moment the charms had engaged, the young couple let out the breath they hadn’t realized they were still holding.

“That,” the blond stated with another sigh, “went well, I think.”

The Potter heir nodded as he finished situating himself comfortably on the chaise, lounging as much on his boyfriend as he was on the silk cushions. He let out a short, almost surprised laugh as he began to recall the tea and subsequent dinner. “It did. But the looks on their faces when we first told them…”

Green met grey as the taller Slytherin let out a small laugh of his own. “Snape looked a little disturbed at first, as if he wished he didn’t know.”

“He was probably thinking about next year. We _will_ be two romantically involved sixteen-year old wizards, away from parental figures, after all. He might even be comparing us with the ‘hormonal miscreants’ he goes on about having to deal with on patrols.” Harry shot the other wizard a smirk, his mind momentarily on the night shortly after Yule break when they had nearly been caught by the professor. What he would have found had he seen them that night would surely have fit his definition of hormonal miscreants.

After a moment of silent humor, during which Draco pictured the same night, he turned his thoughts back to the conversation in the tea room. “My father didn’t look particularly at ease either.”

There was a slight tone of worry in the blond’s voice that prompted his best friend to almost burrow into his side with an offer of comfort. “He didn’t, at first. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so…” the brunette trailed off momentarily while searching for the right word, “ruffled.”

The word choice drew a small smile from the other Slytherin which grew a little stronger at the edges when his boyfriend pointed out that by the end of dinner, the eldest blond had been regarding them with an uncertain but overall approving, expression. The smile turned to a smirk as he thought of his mother next. “Mother did not look….ruffled.”

The young couple exchanged a laugh at the term before Harry nodded his agreement more seriously. “She did look a bit shocked, there for a moment, though.”

They exchanged another look, this time with markedly less humor as they pictured the rest of the evening. The brunette’s guardian had not looked shocked for long. In fact, by the time they had all settled around the table in the informal dinning room, the witch had a trace of tears in her blue eyes. Those eyes had featured an almost anticipatory gleam by dessert. “She looked like she was already planning something.”

Draco nodded, not missing the uncertain tone the observation had been made in. He was a little uncertain himself. “I have the feeling we do not want to know what that something is.”

Harry silently agreed, though once he was past his initial unease he found he couldn’t be too bothered by it at the moment. After all, he was pretty sure her preoccupation with whatever she had started to consider had allowed them to slip away with little notice. With that in mind, he titled his face up to look into the familiar grey gaze, doing his best to lift the taller wizard’s spirits in the face of maternal plotting.

“They all know now,” he pointed out unnecessarily. “Which means we don’t have to hide anything this summer. We can do what we want here.”

A single blond brow arched at the statement, a little distracted by the increasingly husky tone. It took him a moment to process the words themselves, but when he did, he lifted one hand to stroke the face nestled against his shoulder.

“Perhaps not _everything_. We wouldn’t want anything too important to be interrupted.”

Harry swallowed audibly as he sat up slightly, repositioning himself so his face was level with Draco’s. “True. Anything important should probably be kept somewhere private.”

The blond’s agreement was rather nonverbal at first, consisting of a brief sound as he sat up, forcing the other Slytherin to do the same. Harry was then forced to lean further and further backwards until the brunette was lying almost fully reclined across the chaise with the taller form stretched out above him. Grey eyes left the slowly flushing face to glance pointedly around the curtained nook. “Somewhere like here, perhaps.”

The nod he received in reply was a touch jumpy, but the look in those green eyes was far more settled as he moved close enough for the breath of his next words to ghost across the other young wizard’s lips. And more than a touch impatient. It was the blond’s impatience that cut off the words Harry began to say, however.

“Exactly like-” The Potter heir let out a quiet moan as his boyfriend claimed his lips with a long, searching kiss. The days of anxiety which had led up to the announcement of their relationship to the three adults finally began to bleed out of the brunette. A little bit more was expelled with every small sound, every gasp and moan, every sigh and sharp inhalation of breath.

Draco reveled in those noises, doing his best to wring as many out of the body beneath him as he possibly could. He had become addicted to them, and to the methods by which he could cause them. The blond plunged his tongue into the open mouth, using it to probe every corner of that wet cavern. He ran it along the rough texture of the roof and the softness of the inside of Harry’s cheeks. He touched every tooth, somehow avoiding having it bitten when the brunette jerked unexpectedly as the first of his shirt buttons was pulled free.

It took several minutes for the blond to work his way through the entire row of buttons that had been holding the formerly pressed dress shirt closed over that chest. He was far too busy twining and sliding his tongue eagerly over the one that had invaded his own mouth. That other tongue grew more and more daring, exploring his mouth the way he had been doing moments before. Draco didn’t dare pull back enough to look at what he was doing, instead tugging awkwardly on button after button while pulling more sounds out of his boyfriend.

For his part, Harry spent a few dozen frenzied heartbeats concentrating on the delicious kisses he was being given, before he realized his shirt was well on its way to being opened entirely. Once that thought hit, he fumbled determinedly at the other’s shirt in similar fashion. When they had both finally been successful, the loud gasps echoed in the enclosed space of the nook.

Their chests brushed against each other’s, causing another set of sounds and the desperate clutching of shoulders in an effort to maintain the contact. Draco found himself pressed so tightly to the smaller wizard that he was momentarily worried that he was crushing him. Harry had been taking the growth potions all year and had finally begun to close the distance in height between them, but he was still a fair bit shorter than his boyfriend.

He had filled out, as well, and the blond relished in the harder muscles beneath that tanned skin as he explored them yet again with his hands. Soon enough, that exploration was sufficiently hampered by the open shirt that he ended the kisses to pull back and remove the offending garment. A whimper of disappointment came from the brunette at the movement until the shirt had been unceremoniously tugged off of him and tossed behind the chaise. Suddenly aware of his completely shirtless state, green eyes snapped open just soon enough to watch the blond’s shirt make a similar disappearance.

The whimper that sounded then was not one of disappointment. Especially when the other Slytherin took the opportunity to attach his newly freed lips to the neck and shoulder under him. Tanned hands hastened to find purchase on the shifting back of pale skin, the raven-haired wizard feeling somewhat adrift in the sensations that rose higher with every inch those talented lips traveled southward. First they nibbled along the side and base of his neck, then they traveled onto his chest, then further down until they reached his navel.

The quick motions of a warm tongue darting out to taste the soft skin of his stomach had the Potter heir arching upwards with a cry. He only grew more animated in his movements when the mouth left a moist trail up to his left nipple where it latched on with enthusiasm. The light suction and flicking tongue that followed rivaled every memory of pinching fingers, which had recently become their favorite activity besides snogging.

Grey eyes darted up to meet green at the loud reaction. They had touched the bare chest and back and stomach of their partner many times in the last months of the school year. They had even kissed their ways down the exposed V of half-opened shirts. But this was only the third time they had completely removed that article of clothing, and the first time they had used tongue or teeth to map that territory. As he considered pulling back to make sure his boyfriend was comfortable with what he was doing, a pair of hands made fists in his white-blond locks and trapped his head in place.

Pink lips smirked slightly around their prize and devoted themselves to the newly discovered activity. After a minute or two, he managed to move his head just far enough to engulf the other nipple in wet heat and start all over again. Within moments those same hands were tugging him upward none-too gently. A spike of worry formed and was released as Harry practically yanked that busy mouth onto his own. Desperate kisses swallowed the sounds that followed.

Bare chests became pressed tightly together once more, then began to slide up and down with the aide of perspiration and saliva. The movement brought their lower bodies briefly into contact as well, and the sudden overwhelming sensation left them shocked motionless. Panting breaths mingled in the inch or two separating their mouths, the two faces so close that grey and green were barely able to meet. If they had possessed the ability to concentrate on anything else, they would have each noticed how dilated the other’s eyes happened to be, the colors they were so familiar with barely a sliver around blown pupils.

Hands tightened their grip where they lay above their heads, fingers interlaced rather desperately as they remained frozen. Neither could recall moving them there, but in the moment neither cared in the least about that short lapse. Instead, they focused exclusively on the feel of hot breath and bare skin and the noticable ache still covered with cloth.

The distant sound of the grandfather clock in the formal parlor adjoining the ballroom made its way into the small nook, however, breaking the frozen moment. The repeated gongs slowly penetrated the haze surrounding the minds of the two young wizards, forcing them to recall where they were and where they were supposed to be that time of the evening. It would hardly do for one of the Malfoys to look in on them before bed and find them missing. After the day’s announcement such an action would not be as unexpected as it might otherwise have been.

With that thought, Draco moved for the first time since that unexpected jolt of sensation had resulted from the contact of their lower bodies. He buried his face momentarily in the tanned skin he had been enjoying so much. The body beneath his shuddered slightly at the feel of the heavy exhale against his damp chest and it was with a concerted effort that the Malfoy heir forced himself to sit up. Harry took a moment longer, green eyes blinking rather dazedly for several seconds before he slowly, awkwardly, followed suit. With a bit of trouble, they agreed that it was time to head up to their sitting room and get ready for bed. Even so, another few minutes were spent making themselves presentable – and waiting for themselves to calm enough to walk without extreme embarrassment – before tying back the curtain and making their way somewhat uncomfortably upstairs.

The summer before their sixth year had the potential to be very enjoyable indeed, but at the same time, both young wizards had the distinct feeling that it would feature more than a few cold showers as well.


	4. A Traditional Exchange

Informing the adults about the relationship that had developed between them had gained them about a month’s reprieve from the Courting List discussion they had been putting off since the summer before. But slightly more than a fortnight after they returned from their fifth year, the hints began. The mentions of formal courting and the need for compiling a list of suitable candidates – or simply starting the process if a list was unnecessary – grew less and less subtle. Towards the start of July, Harry was cornered by his guardian as Draco finished his breakfast and all subtlety was abandoned entirely.

“The first stage of a Formal Courtship is Initiated by the individual who possesses the higher social status, Harry,” she had stated plainly. “There is no foreseeable situation in which you will not be acting as the Initiate when you have decided on a likely spouse. I believe it would be in your best interest for us to discuss those steps which tradition demands you take when you decide to begin your Courtship.”

Having no ready response to give, the dark-haired youth opened, then closed his mouth fruitlessly. After a moment he cleared his throat, and with a not-quite-hidden glance towards the room Draco was currently occupying, suggested a time for them to talk about the subject. Her pleased smile and gracious nod was a little too sharp for his comfort, but he was too busy berating himself for giving in so easily. Once the first wave of panic had subsided, however, he internally conceded that no stalling tactic could possibly have put off the determined matriarch of the Malfoy family. For all his discomfort, however, he did not mention the impending discussion with the other teen. Not even to complain or commiserate. Nor did he ask if his best friend had been similarly approached by either of his parents.

Instead, the Potter heir stewed in his unease without comment and used the restless hour between laying down and finally falling asleep to dissect his situation each night for more than a week with only Excalibur’s purr to break up the silence of his room or derail the manic whirl of this thoughts. After that, he spent that same time second-guessing the steps he had decided to take. He whispered his queries to the slumbering Kneazle more than once as they piled up in his mind. Was he doing the right thing? Was he acting prematurely? Would his boyfriend be at all receptive to such a thing? Would he scare Draco off by doing so? The only advice the feline was able to offer, however, as a disgruntled mrrow when he spoke loud enough or moved often enough to disturb the animal’s rest.

By the night of his sixteenth birthday, Harry was a nervous wreck, and he was pretty sure he was doing a poor job of hiding it. Draco and Neville certainly had seemed to be eyeing him suspiciously the past few days as final preparations for the upcoming celebrations were completed. He not only had his birthday to celebrate, after all, but also the full legal assumption of his titles and roles as Head of three renowned Houses. The latter was certainly a stressful thing to contemplate, which was the excuse he gave more than once when asked if anything was bothering him. Not even the cat was fooled by the assurances.

The subject most often praying on his mind was not his titles, of course. No, it was the long and awkward conversation he had shared with his guardian only weeks before. They had spent several minutes reviewing the basic stages of Formal Courtship, which had been taught to both boys when they were twelve. Then another hour going into the details of each stage, what he would be expected to do, and how he might choose to respond given the various possible reactions of his selected partner. As uncomfortable as it was, discussing with Narcissa the facts and customs of a formal romantic relationship, the thing that truly unsettled him was the amused and almost eager look in those pale blue eyes while they did so.

That discomfort was nothing, however, in comparison to what he was feeling as he attempted to mingle cheerfully with the friends and classmates who had been invited to his birthday party. There were no more than fifteen in addition to himself, so it was being held in the large parlor where he and Draco had once received dancing lessons rather than in the expansive formal ballroom. Yet even the familiar sea-green silk wallpaper and relaxed atmosphere was unable to calm his nerves.

When not in conversation with the attendees, the birthday boy gravitated to the edges of the party where he sipped a drink and recited the traditional rules of the first stage of Courtship in his mind. It was done in an attempt to prevent him from second guessing what he had done by reminding himself that he was following those traditions and acting well within their predictable confines. It was not very successful, but he carried on in the hope that repetition would sufficiently drive home the point.

The first stage of Formal Courtship was unsurprisingly, called Courting, the first step of which was the presentation of the first courting gift. That all-important gesture was called an Opening Gift and it was given by the Initiate to the Recipient. The gift was traditionally something that symbolized the Initiate’s House, as an offer for the other individual to join that House or, as Harry preferred to see it, as a request for them to evaluate that House as a suitable one to join.

Because it could make or break the entire Courtship, the Opening Gift was extremely important, almost more so than the Promise or Betrothal ring, or even the marriage contract. If the first gift was not received well by the other half of the couple – or worse, rejected outright – it may well end the entire Courtship before it even started. That fact continued to override all others in his head as the brunette silently recited the traditions. As a result, the brunette wizard was fairly certain that by the time he had finished seeing off his guests, he was actually more anxious than he had been at the start of the evening.

The prospect of what he had planned to do after the party left him nearly silent as he and Draco made their way to their rooms around one o’clock in the morning. Harry had hoped that his resulting behavior would be written off as exhaustion, but apparently not, as the blond hesitantly asked if he were all right.

As much as he wanted to assuage his boyfriend’s concerns, Harry was only capable of giving a distracted reassurance before excusing himself to his bedroom as soon as they reached their sitting room. Preoccupied with his own worries, the brunette did not notice the disappointed way grey eyes watched his departure. Having looked forward to hanging out for a while before bed, and perhaps even having their own private little celebration, the Malfoy heir couldn’t help but sigh loudly in the empty room as he dropped onto the settee.

Once sitting down, the blond could not talk himself into going to bed yet, instead running a hand over his pale features and struggling with the emotions churning in his stomach. The young aristocrat had found himself behaving in a way that could almost be considered clingy for several days now and he was far from comfortable with that. The recent conversations with his parents about his Courting List, or lack thereof, had left him rather preoccupied with the topic.

Despite his best efforts, however Draco had been unable to push aside the hopes and nerves that his boyfriend might be interested in progressing their relationship. But as a member of the lesser House within said relationship, he was considered the Recipient and therefore, he could not make the first move. Having to wait and wonder if Harry ever intended to do so was doing a remarkable job of wearing away his nerve endings day by day.

The Malfoy heir was abruptly shaken from his unpleasant thoughts when the door to Harry’s bedroom opened suddenly and the sixteen-year-old stumbled through it. The rising hope in his chest was unstoppable, but he tried his best to mitigate it by focusing on the possibility that his boyfriend might be interested in a birthday snog after all. That train of thought was somewhat derailed by the strange sight of a package in the brunette’s hands, which was placed on the coffee table in front of the other wizard a moment later. Another, more insidious hope began to grow and he shoved it down with a forced laugh.

“You do realize you’re doing it wrong, right?” A flash of fear lit the green eyes as they snapped over to the settee where the blond was still sitting, then dimmed slightly when Draco went on. “Today is _your_ birthday, Harry. You are supposed to be getting gifts, not giving them.”

“I-” his voice cracked, forcing the birthday boy to clear his throat before trying again. The traditional offer of the Opening Gift, like the other prescribed steps to a Courtship, was rather stilted and far too formal in Harry’s opinion, but he fully intended to do this right. Squaring his shoulders, the slightly shorter wizard looked as steadily as he could at the first friend he had ever made.

“I, Harry, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor, and heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, offer this Gift in hopes of Opening with you a Formal Courtship, in accordance with tradition and with the blessing of my Houses and yours.”

Draco froze, physically incapable of making himself reach for the box, his brain trying to catch up with what was happening. It wasn’t until Harry began to shift nervously with a look of mounting panic that the blond was able to respond in some way. His first instinct was to accept the Gift immediately, but tradition dictated that the Recipient opened the Gift before accepting or declining it. He started to pick up the package, intending to sit it on his lap to open it but was stopped by an exclamation by the brunette.

“Oh! I forgot. It um, it needs to be enlarged. I shrunk it. Because it was rather large, and heavy. So you might want to enlarge it first. Or I could. Before you open it, that is. If-if you want to. You don’t have to, of course-”

In any other circumstances, the blond would have teased his boyfriend for the awkward and disjointed speech, but as his own voice refused to cooperate, he couldn’t help but find the ramble a little endearing. Clearing his throat quietly, Draco placed the box on the ground in front of him, then drew his wand and quickly enlarged the package, somewhat surprised by exactly how much it grew. The Slytherin was forced to stand just to easily reach the top so he could open it.

The moment his best friend cast _Engorgio_ , Harry cut himself off with a choked gasp, then waited, shifting his weight from foot to foot in a manner that would have horrified Narcissa. As the blond unwrapped his Gift, a large stone statue of a dragon was revealed. The animal was almost as tall as the blond and stood on his hind legs, wings open behind it. It had a large shield clutched in his front claws. The shield was divided into four segments, each bearing a different carved image. In three sections there were the coat of arms for the Potter, Peverell, and Gryffindor Houses, and in the forth, a depiction of the Draco constellation. The last was meant to show that Draco was already connected to him and would be welcomed unreservedly into his Houses and his life. The exact species of dragon- the Welsh Green, was the one most often associated with the House of Pendragon, through which he and Draco’s ancestors were linked.

With even the sound of tearing paper having stopped, the silence in the room was deafening to the raven-haired wizard. Words began to pour out of his mouth with little to no thought other than _please like it, please take it, please_. “It has an animation charm. But it’s not on right now. Obviously. I thought you’d want to activate it yourself. After you figure out where you want it to go. I mean, if you want-”

It took an extreme amount of willpower to make himself stop talking but he managed. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath to try and collect himself. He had to do this right. “D-Do you Receive this G-Gift from the Houses of Potter, Peverell, Gryffindor, and Black, and w-with it the Opening of a Formal Courtship between us?”

The urge to gather the new Lord into his arms, to comfort and reassure him as he stuttered through the traditional words was almost overwhelming. It was obvious how nervous and uncomfortable his boyfriend was. Yet his own nerves and the sensation that he was drowning in a flood of emotion held sway and kept him silent. In that silence, he could hear the other wizard swallow before he started talking again, the words tumbling over each other as they fell from his mouth.

“Th-The shield, it, it means that, I mean the image… of the constellation, it stands, I mean, it means…” the stuttering voice began to shake, the sound finally pulling wide grey eyes from the stone dragon to his best friend’s face. The familiar features were pale beneath his natural tan, the green eyes wide and glassy with a fear, a desperation, that he hadn’t seen on that face since they were seven years old and the scrawny little boy had appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the Malfoy hedge maze. The sight galvanized him in a way nothing else could, finally penetrating through the emotional fog that had enveloped him and making him realize what his lack of response was doing to the first friend he’d ever had.

“I, Draco, heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, do Receive this Gift from you,” the blond’s voice broke for just moment, but he quickly continued, “with the understanding that a Formal Courtship has been Opened between myself and the Houses of Potter, Peverell, Gryffindor, and Black.”

It felt as if the words had used up every bit of energy he had and the Malfoy heir once again let silence fall between them. The green eyes had fallen shut again during the response, but after a few seconds they opened and focused on the other wizard with a glassy sheen. A weak smile curved his lips and Harry did his best to sound like he was making a joke as he asked if the Gift was really that much of a shock. The nerves beneath the humor were clear however, the doubts and questions running through his head almost audible in the air between them.

Had he not made his intentions clear? Had he not shown how he felt, or that he wanted something more serious? Was Draco not interested in taking this step? Was it too soon? Had Draco only Received it because he thought he had to? Maybe he didn’t like the statue and just didn’t want to say it? Maybe-

The internal ramble was cut off abruptly as the blond crossed the distance between them without warning. Before the movement had registered in the brunette’s frantic thoughts, he was suddenly being kissed. The lips on his were unyielding, almost violent as they laid claim to his mouth, and despite how short the kiss ended up being, they were both panting heavily when the taller Slytherin pulled away a moment later.

The glassy green eyes blinked repeatedly without any other sound or movement. Then, eventually, they focused back on that familiar face slightly above him. The kiss may have been passionate, but the look on Draco’s face was not. It was tender in a way he had never seen the blond before. Harry blinked again, this time to hold back the tears that began to burn the back of his throat. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. There were no more traditional speeches. He had given the Gift, and Draco had Received it. He had Initiated a Formal Courtship. With Draco. He was now officially Courting Draco.

A wide smile split across the brunette’s face before he turned and headed back towards his bedroom. His steps were anything but sure as he spent more time looking back over his shoulder than he did looking where he was going. Luckily he had memorized the layout of their sitting room years ago and was able to successfully reach his destination without actually falling on his face.

The moment the door closed behind Harry, the smile with which Draco had been watching his boyfriend changed slightly. Grey eyes returned briefly to the stone statue and its shield. Then they drifted to the open doorway to his room and the closet just out of sight. Tradition stated that the Recipient was required to take the next step by giving a Gift of their own. The Acceptance Gift was as important for the Recipient as the Opening Gift was for the Initiate. It was most often a specially commissioned piece that took weeks to have made. Thank Merlin he wouldn’t have to wait that long.

Even so, the twenty-four hours he did have to wait felt like they took a lifetime. He mentally thanked his father for covering for their absence that evening. After hearing about the Gift Draco had been given the night before, Narcissa Malfoy had spent the entire day with a self-satisfied smile on her pretty face. Lucius had been far more reserved in his approval and congratulations. Not that such were lacking at the family celebration they held the day after Harry turned sixteen. Rather than his birthday, this celebration was in honor of the brunette becoming a Lord in his own right.

The elaborate dinner had ended an hour before and the group had been mingling and talking over drinks in the parlor. All except Draco and Harry, who, courtesy of a subtle and cooperative Lord Malfoy, were slipping out into the Manor grounds where they would be free to talk without someone constantly interrupting to congratulate one or both of them. Though talking was certainly not the only thing Draco had planned for their evening.

No, he had something far more important in mind, for which he had impatiently waited all day, and most of a sleepless night. His father would have hardly helped them escape family or social obligations for just a little bit of privacy. But for the next step in the Courting stage? That, apparently, was worth covering for their absence. For all that he had not been effusive in his opinion of the two friends beginning a Courtship, Lucius Malfoy certainly did not want to discourage such a genuine and prestigious match for his heir.

His father had been helpful during all of the preparations for this important step, not just allowing them to sneak off for the rest of the evening. As the Opening Gift was the Initiate’s first of the three traditional Courting gifts exchanged during the first stage of Courtship, the Acceptance Gift was the Recipient’s first present. Traditionally a symbol of the Recipient’s House, it was considered a formal indication that the Receiving House was being ‘given’ to the Initiate’s. An offer for a merger of Houses through marriage and an acknowledgment that the Recipient would be giving up their birth House to take a place in the Initiate’s House, this Gift was one he had been thinking about for quite some time.

Despite being unable to make the first move to Open the Courtship, Draco was determined that his Acceptance Gift would be grand enough to match the Malfoy name. Even if he didn’t know when he would need it, or indeed _if_ he would need it – though he had done his level best not to think about that last fact – he had been planning it since they had first decided to announce their relationship to his parents. Camouflaging it rather poorly as a birthday gift for Harry, the blond had enlisted his father’s help in having it designed and commissioned during the last Hogsmeade weekend of the school year.

He doubted the Lord Malfoy had been fooled, but the older wizard hadn’t so much as smirked at him when, after arriving home for the summer, he had picked out a different present to give Harry at his birthday. Not even that morning when they announced the news of their Courtship. He had simply nodded and gone about his business when Draco had quietly asked him if he could aid in their escape after the dinner party so that he could give the Acceptance Gift to Harry.

The blond Slytherin had not informed his father about where he would be preforming the official presentation of the Gift, nor did he tell Harry where they were going when they slipped into the gardens. The brunette was hardly surprised, however, when they continued along the paths and into the hedge maze. Draco had thought it the most secure and private spot to hide the present. It being the place where they first met was just a coincidence, though a happy one, he told himself.

Meanwhile, Harry was telling himself that their late night trek was probably happy coincidence as well, refusing to get his hopes up that his boyfriend would be advancing their Courtship so soon. Though he had thought about little else since Opening it the night before. Gifts like the one Draco would hopefully be giving him at _some_ point usually took months to have made, so his presenting it to the brunette so soon was not at all realistic.

Pushing those hopeful thoughts aside, Harry focused on the teasing smirk being sent his way instead. It was a pleasant distraction, indeed, as would be the amorous activities the look indicated would occur once they reached their destination. Having sacrificed his birthday snog for the giving of his Gift the night before, Harry was all for catching up now. Deciding that doing a little teasing of his own would be another good distraction from his thoughts, Harry did his best to sound light-heartedly suspicious.

“Trying to get me all alone, are you?”

As successful as he might have been with the joking question – and Harry would bet it hadn’t been too terribly successful – the look of abject relief that crossed his face when there was a large wrapped box waiting for them at the center of the maze left Draco in no doubt at all as to how his boyfriend felt about continuing the Courting process so soon. With a wide smile that held a touch of his own relief at the brunette’s reaction, the Malfoy heir quickly presented the Gift.

“I, Draco, heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, offer this Gift in Acceptance of the formal Courtship Opened by you, in accordance with tradition and with the blessing of my House and yours.”

The new Lord would have been annoyed that the blond’s voice held all the poise and confidence his had lacked the previous evening, but he was far too focused on opening the Gift before him with all the haste he could manage while maintaining the dignity owed the occasion. His attention was impossible to focus elsewhere as the brunette removed the wrapping to expose a polished wooden box that, upon opening, proved to be lined with velvet dyed a rich, royal purple. The opulent fabric hardly registered, however, green eyes locked instead on the item nestled within it.

With a soft sigh, the Lord Potter rested a shaking hand on the golden hilt of a full sized medieval sword. The pommel and cross guard were elaborately carved, the latter featuring what looked like a cross between a cat and a dragon. Moonlight glinted off the portion of the blade that was left exposed above the scabbard to show more intricate carving. Harry carefully lifted it from the box, only realizing as he removed the leather that covered it what the blade was made from. Mithril. The amount used to form the meter long blade would be worth a small fortune, and that was without taking into account any other aspect of the extravagant Gift.

He knew without asking, though, that the price of the sword was not nearly as important to the item’s worth as the symbolism behind it. The had joked innumerable times between them that Cal was like the sword he had been named for, a symbol of the renowned blade given by Draco’s ancestor to Harry’s for Arthur’s use in ruling his Kingdom. A reminder of the gift the blond had given him just after he turned eleven, and an opulent symbol of the existing tie between their ancestral Houses, the Acceptance gift was literally worth more than its weight in gold.

Green eyes still fixed on the sword, the shorter Slytherin stood on unsteady legs to recite the formal words in a hoarse tone.

“I, Harry, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor, and heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, do take from you this Gift, with the understanding that the formal Courtship between myself and the House of Malfoy has been Accepted and acknowledged by us both with the intention to proceed in this Courting period.”

The traditional response was barely out of his mouth before Harry was moving towards his boyfriend, overcome with the need to express his relief and excitement. That excitement had not taken into account, however, the fact that he was still holding the sword. The Gift managed to poke Draco with its sheathed blade and Harry with its pommel before the brunette was able to abort the planned embrace.

“Oh!” they both exclaimed as Harry took a hasty step backwards. The brunette was silent a moment then burst out with almost uncontrollable laughter, his overflowing emotions finding release in the humor of the situation. Once back under control, he shook his head at his own folly. “Good thing it was still in its scabbard, yeah?”

Draco, still amused from the previous outburst smirked across the short distance and returned the weak joke with the first thing that came to mind. “I wouldn’t mind taking something _else_ out of its scabbard.”

The blond almost winced at the ridiculous innuendo and started to verbally brush off the words when his boyfriend’s half-joking response made him freeze. “Well then, why don’t you?”

Draco fumbled for a rejoinder, but the longer he took the more serious the other wizard’s face became until they were staring at each other with a blend of shocked excitement and embarrassed expectation. The Malfoy heir was at a complete and uncharacteristic loss for words, though he tried to clarify what it was his best friend had actually meant. “You mean… I mean, do you…”

The question was anything but clear, but the way Harry swallowed noticeably, then gave an almost shy nod showed that he knew what the other had been trying to say. The blond felt his heart begin to pound as he ventured a step closer to the other Slytherin. He truly hadn’t expected anything remotely serious in the response to his lame double entendre and was tempted to ask if the brunette was sure. But a temptation of another kind gripped him and he simply didn’t have the patience.

Draco had been waiting months for the opportunity to give his Acceptance Gift and was nearly overwhelmed with having done it, and it being so well received. When the short distance between them had been crossed, he slowly reached out and took the sword, then set it carefully back in its box and closed the lid. All without taking his eyes from the new Lord. After a long moment’s hesitation he decided to continue with the lame clichés and lead his boyfriend into the gazebo-like structure formed of hedges, which they had used as a fort when they were younger.

Once inside, the blond drew the unresisting body to him and slowly leaned down to cover Harry’s lips with his own. The brunette was never more grateful for the eye repair spells he had finally been able to get done, and the growth potions he had been taking, as he was when he could look at Draco now without the stupid frames getting in the way of his ability to kiss the other wizard. Or the fact that he felt at least somewhat confident that he wouldn’t look ridiculous without his clothes on.

And at this point, he was pretty sure his clothes were going to come off. He was not disappointed. Over the next few minutes, slow, tender kisses and the gentle sweep of hands left two pairs of formal robes and two neatly pressed dress shirts on the verdant grass inside the fort. Being so much taller than they had been when they had played within the structure, both young wizards spent most of that time kneeling. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but neither one of them was the least bit concerned with comfort right then. Well, not that kind anyway.

The pale hands were whisper soft as they trailed up and down Harry’s bare back, then around to his chest and stomach. He mapped the increasingly toned muscles with his fingers, occasionally making contact with the small brown nipples he had learned to love so much. The two had fooled around more times than they could count since beginning their relationship the previous summer, and they were certainly not strangers to each other’s naked torso. But the barely-there contact of tanned hands on pale shoulders, and the almost chaste but drugging kisses being exchanged were different than all the times before. For all that they were softer and less physically enthusiastic, these kisses felt far more passionate.

That passion’s familiar energy returned upon entering unfamiliar territory. The downward slide of Draco’s right hand continued just far enough past where it always had before to let his fingers slip beneath the waistband of Harry’s trousers. The feel of warm fingers brushing the sensitive skin of his bum caused the brunette to arch forward slightly with a gasp. In doing so, his mouth was pulled free of the kiss and his front was pushed into the blond’s. The resulting contact had both moaning softly in surprised appreciation. The sound signaled a marked increase in the speed and strength of their movements.

It took less than a minute for the couple to be stretched out on the soft grass, or at least for one of them to be. The other was happily spread atop his boyfriend. And still, they continued to move faster, to push harder against each other with ever-louder moans. A particularly enthusiastic movement nearly sent the dark-haired wizard off onto the grass, forcing him to bend his legs and brace himself with his knees.

The change of position allowed Harry to sit up slightly so he could more easily see the flushed face and chest beneath him. It was certainly a sight worth seeing. Draco would have rather had the other wizard close enough to kiss, however, and tightened his grip on the firm arse cheeks, intending to pull the young Noble back down against him. The hold would not allow him to shift the upper body, though, only grind their lower regions together all the harder. Before he could even think to complain about that result, it drew a quite favorable reaction from the body above him.

The way Harry arched his back as he reached down to brace his hands against the pale chest, palms landing conveniently on the blond’s nipples, started to change the Malfoy heir’s mind about the brunette staying in that particular position. They continued moving their hips together, gasping and moaning at the repeated friction until the desire to taste returned so strongly that Draco reluctantly moved one hand up along the tanned back to gain enough leverage to pull that delectable pink mouth within range of his own. To the Slytherin’s surprise, the adjustment was resisted with a shake of the head and a breathy protest.

“No. Wanna see you. Please?” Harry whined. The slight questioning tone confused the taller wizard for a moment until two tanned hands made their way down the blond’s front until they rested on pale hip bones, the thumbs sweeping back and forth, reaching just under the waistband with each swipe.

Grey eyes widened slightly at the implication of exactly what it was that his boyfriend wanted to see, sending the pale orbs darting up to meet green. What they found there drew a long, low noise out of him as he started to frantically nod his head, short white-blond strands fanning out on the grass as he did so. The movements that followed were just as frantic as they attempted to disrobe themselves and each other without the brunette actually moving off of him. Frustrated noises soon filled the green space until Draco wrestled enough control of himself to think at least somewhat rationally.

Taking a long, deep breath, the blond stilled the other young wizard’s movements, then firmly rolled them both over. A second later their positions were successfully reversed, if a little closer to the hedge columns than he had intended. Not sparing the time or thought to recognize how much smaller the interior of their childhood fort was compared to how it had always seemed when they were younger, Draco instead focused on his task. Extracting himself sufficiently from the brunette’s hold was hastened by the fact that the smaller wizard was still a bit startled from being forced suddenly onto his back.

Extracting the slightly shorter wizard from his trousers and pants was much easier, as it gained Harry’s almost immediate cooperation as soon as he realized what was happening. Although he did resist for just a moment, as he seemed far more eager to undress his boyfriend than he was to have his boyfriend undress him. The blond was determined, however, to provide himself with a view once he stood to slip off his own remaining clothing. Shoes and socks provided a short-lived impediment before they were dealt with rather roughly. Once the fashionable barriers had been sent to the other side of the fort – and in one case, outside through a gap in the leafy columns – the rest was easily finished.

Even so, the overwhelming results of his efforts left Draco frozen for several heartbeats, standing in the warm night air, slightly hunched to avoid hitting his head on the arched hedges of the roof. Grey eyes swept up and down the tanned expanse he had revealed but the reality of what he was seeing for the first time, was difficult for his mind to process. A quiet protest from below him brought him back to himself and had him practically falling to his knees in his haste to get closer.

A corner of his mind had seen a flash of insecurity in the beloved green eyes at the delay, though the blond didn’t consciously notice that his lack of action might be causing his best friend to doubt himself or the way the blond might perceive him. The vast majority of Draco’s brain-power was taken up by the need to _get closer_ , to _feel_ all that tanned skin against his own. He did so with more speed than grace, nearly lunging forward to close the distance between them. A soft expulsion of breath followed the resultant crash of naked bodies as the blond was abruptly, fully, atop him and taking immediate advantage of that fact by resuming the energetic movement of hips that had preceded the disrobing.

When that had first been accomplished, Harry had been absently glad for his improved vision yet again and was pretty sure Draco wasn’t able to enjoy as great a view as he was, looking over the blond’s naked form. But from the way the heated flesh he had been admiring was suddenly covering his own, the blond hadn’t minded what he had seen.

Looking, however, was not enough. He wanted to touch, to taste. The desire soon overrode even the sensation of his arousal pressed against the equally hard length of Draco’s. As much as he wanted to keep rocking into the increasingly vocal blond in order to maintain that exquisite pressure, he wanted to get his hands on the source of the heat enveloping him. Without real thought, he reached down between them, the brush of tanned hand on pale cock stilling all movement in an instant.

For a second, Harry thought he had done something wrong and started to pull his hand away. Before he was able to complete the movement, his wrist was seized in a vice-like grip, and a white-blond head was dropping heavily onto his chest with a harsh groan. Feeling a little daring at the sound, the brunette tightened his own grip, inadvertently pressing their cocks more firmly together. This time they both let out a strained cry and the majority of all thought ceased.

Grips shifted and tightened until a single tanned hand grasped both lengths at once and pale fingers dug into shoulders that were lifting and falling rapidly with each breath. Draco let out a hoarse cry of his boyfriend’s name, the word muffled in the other’s neck as their cocks were stroked in tandem. The new Lord added a roll of his hips rather unintentionally as he became absorbed by the sensations, and the feel of sweat slicked skin sliding over the hardened flesh was stunning. So much so that he paused all movement in order to regain some semblance of control over himself.

That was clearly not to the blond’s liking as he protested with a groan and when he was not immediately headed, took advantage of his boyfriend’s stillness to roll them back towards the center of the fort. He further took advantage of the change in position to tangle the messy black strands in one hand and wrench the hovering mouth down onto his. Lips already parted on panting breaths opened further still to allow a thorough, mutual exploration of tongues. The wet duel only lasted a few minutes as the need to breathe, and the desire to taste ever more, urged Harry to drag his mouth over the blond’s jaw and down the slender column of Draco’s throat.

The Lord’s mouth left a warm, wet trail of licks and nips, green eyes closed tightly to better savor the sounds he was drawing forth. He paused occasionally to suck the warm skin into his mouth, leaving a vivid red mark behind when he moved on. Both flat, rosy nipples received attention, as did every inch of pale chest that he could reach. The stomach would have as well if it had not required the brunette to relinquish his hold further south. Nothing would convince that fist to loosen, so he kissed and licked and sucked his way back up to Draco’s straining neck.

The light pressure of teeth on the corded muscles caused the blond to reach out blindly and grasp hold of the first thing he could. To the couple’s mutual satisfaction, that happened to be Harry’s arse. The Malfoy heir could feel it flexing under his grip and he rolled his own hips in response. As lips and teeth met in a viciously sweet kiss, Draco let his hands massage the globes of flesh with increasing daring. Eventually, panting that had been interspersed with pleas not to stop was broken by a cry. The slender fingers had slipped between the firm cheeks and landed on the furled hole hidden there.

The blond head smacked against the soft ground as he drew swiftly back to look into the face above him. The brunette was in a similar position when their eyes met, his neck wrenched back to give enough room to see. Grey and green were both almost impossibly wide and Draco drew a breath to apologize. The harsh inhale was accompanied by a nervous clench of his hand, however, causing the fingertip to brush against that tender spot a second time.

Harry cried out again, eyes falling shut and his own hand, still wrapped firmly around both leaking cocks, clenching as well. That made the blond hiss and arch up off the grass even as a rather wicked smirk spread across his face. The other pair of eyes was still tightly shut against the onslaught of sensation and didn’t notice. Which left the Lord Potter completely unprepared for what followed. With another sharp tilt of his hips, Draco put pressure on the finger still touching the sensitive hole.

The blond had an instant to enjoy the look of shocked pleasure on Harry’s face before he was rapidly overwhelmed by the feel of his boyfriend’s cock pulsing against his own, the eruption of hot slick on his skin setting off a series of fireworks behind his eyes. The devious look on his pale face was replaced by something else entirely and it was long seconds before his sight cleared enough to see anything but bright bursts of light. Green eyes could see just fine, and they savored the stunned expression in the grey pools. The same could not be said of Harry’s hearing, which was drowned out entirely by the sound of his own racing heartbeat and the echo of Draco’s choked shout.

When the couple regained all their senses, they were slumped against each other, their bodies loose and their skin sticky with their release. The otherwise fastidious wizards paid no notice to the mess, however. They did eventually take the time to clean themselves up – quite thoroughly indeed – before helping one another dress. But that was some time later, and after they had exchanged long, drugged kisses. The smiles with which they left the maze still lingered long after they had snuck up to their rooms for what remained of the night.


	5. Lordship and Love

Compared to the passionate developments of his birthday, actually taking full control of his titles within the court was a little ant-climactic, no pun intended. Even so, he knew that many of the other sitting Nobles would view him differently from now on and he did his best to make sure that the image they formed was the right one. Every aspect of his appearance and demeanor in court today had been meticulously discussed and planned for the best possible impression. Draco had spent two hours helping him pick out exactly what to wear, and then another hour helping him get ready that morning.

As thorough as the brunette’s lessons had been when he was younger, the blond was still superior in his ability to navigate the fashion of Wizarding high society. The taller wizard had certainly dressed him well today. Navy silk and cashmere blend trousers, waistcoat and robe paired with a pale blue silk shirt and kerchief with a navy tie adorned with tiny pale dots. It, and he, had received more than one appreciative glance during the three-hour court session. Which Harry supposed was a good thing, despite how uncomfortable the looks had made him. The brunette was pretty sure he was going to have to improve his neutral yet flattered expression if today was any indication.

Whatever the court day had indicated, it was over now, and the young Noble fought to keep his feeling of relief completely hidden. He tugged lightly on the formal robe of his suit as he stood from his Seat and began to make his way slowly out of the Wizengamot chamber. Slowly, not because he wanted to delay leaving, but because most of the other Sitting members seemed to want to exchange a few words or a nod of acknowledgement with him before he left. The bland smile was beginning to make his face ache slightly by the time he made it to the end of the row of seats in which the Gryffindor box was located.

Harry had been slightly disappointed when he first learned that he would not be using the traditional Potter box. Despite being referred to as Lord Potter due to his family name, he was required to sit in the box with the highest status to which he laid claim. It may not predate the designation of the Arthurian Families as ‘Most Ancient and Noble’ but Gryffindor did in fact trace to Camelot and claimed respect and prominence in its own right as a Founder’s line. It also possessed the highest number of votes of all his Houses. Therefore, the Gryffindor box was to be his Seat in the Wizengamot. Unfortunately, it was at the very front, next to the Chief Warlock’s podium, and required the longest walk to reach an exit.

The Noble exit, a private door used only by the highest tier on the court, was the closest but it still took him a good ten minutes to traverse the dozen or so meters to reach it. In the interim, he greeted and nodded at every member of the Potter/Malfoy Bloc, every Ancient and Noble member of the court, and a few more besides. The expressions which accompanied those brief exchanges were encouraging. The vast majority showed approval and signs of respect, for him, as well as his title.

That was a relief, as the new Lord had plans that would need as much genuine support as he could get in order to run smoothly and progress in a timely manner. The extensive practice and preparation for today had apparently paid off. The main goal of his first session after gaining full control of his titles had been to introduce their next reform himself and in doing so, establish the sixteen-year-old Noble as an intelligent, well spoken and independent thinker who would be a force within the Wizengamot. He needed to be seen as someone who would state their opinion without hesitation and with the expectation of having others follow his lead.

Harry was relieved to see that many had recognized his intention and were prepared to accept him as a leader among the aristocracy, at least in the legal arena. Having all the members of his voting bloc regarding him with clear respect and deference provided a needed boost to his own confidence in his ability to successfully lead that bloc in practice as well as in theory. There were plans in place, and everyone had worked hard to lay the legal and social foundation for them to be enacted. He would have hated to think they might loose ground or momentum because he was unable to properly live up to the expectations and requirements of his role within those plans.

But as long as they had been working towards those goals, he had been learning and preparing for his role in them, so objectively, he should have been confident in his abilities. Lord Malfoy had been telling him since he was ten that he had the skill and knowledge needed to be an effective Lord. That opinion was cemented with a proud and approving glance as they separated into the crowd. His Godfather sent him a similar look when he passed him, as did the Longbottom Regent as she strode purposefully from the courtroom.

Even so, the approval that meant the most to him would come from someone else. And as anxious as he was to see that person, he knew his responsibilities to the court and so took his time to fulfill them properly on his way out. Their plans depended heavily on him, and they meant too much to the brunette for him to risk damaging them in the slightest simply to get home a few minutes earlier. He could spare a lot more than a few minutes to strengthen their position and improve the reception of their new reform and the eventual changes that their work would lead to. Not the least of which was the legalities that needed to be addressed to make his personal goals possible in the future.

For now, however, he focused on the success of the legislation he had introduced himself less than two hours before. The bill had been seconded by Lucius and Augusta and would enable a much more egalitarian set of laws and regulations concerning marriage and would negate the legal foundation for contracts drawn up by wizards on their daughters’ behalf, or those which joined couples related too closely by blood. The next legal volley planned by the bloc would be for witches’ rights and the rights of the otherwise subservient partner in a union. Sirius would be seconding that reform package.

Both sets of laws were long-term goals, but they needed to be started now if they had any chance of making a difference for the lives and marriages of his generation. Harry Potter had every intention of that being the case. He put aside those thoughts in order to fully enjoy the successful completion of his first session without anyone technically overseeing his titles or performance. And enjoying it was apparently just what his boyfriend intended to do.

Upon finally leaving the courtroom and making it to the closest Apparition point, he turned quickly on his heel. His arrival at the Manor was welcome, but not as welcome as the sight of his boyfriend waiting almost patiently for him, still dressed in his own formal suit. Harry had closed the distance between them with haste, anticipating the greeting he would receive from the blond. He was certainly not disappointed, though he was a little surprised by the enthusiasm with which he was pulled close.

Surprise was quickly swamped by another, more pleasurable sensation, as the brunette devoted all his attention to the kiss, lips and tongues dancing together in an intricate duel. Teeth soon joined in, scrapping lightly on his lower lip before the flesh was soothed with a swipe of the blond’s tongue. A small moan was swallowed, then echoed, by the other teen.

The noises barely registered, despite the way they seemed to reverberate around the large room. Draco, for his part was busy re-familiarizing himself with the taste of his lover’s mouth. Nothing else was as important. Except perhaps, becoming re-acquainted with everything that lay south of his current focus. He started with the tanned column of his throat that was exposed above the neat tie, then moved lower. Or at least attempted to, as he was briefly thwarted by a husky reminder that they were in the middle of the receiving room and the two adults would likely arrive there when they came home.

When Draco pulled away far enough, the Lord Potter dashed out into the hall and up the stairs to their sitting room. Even steeped in lust, Harry’s brain managed to inform him that if the Malfoys asked a house elf where they were when the older couple returned home and heard that they were located in a bedroom, they were sure to be interrupted immediately. All of the blond’s lucidity was taken up with the task of restraining himself until they were behind a closed door and did not even notice which room that door led to. Instead, he closed the door and leapt.

Harry had not even had time to turn and face his boyfriend upon crossing the threshold when he was pulled roughly into the body behind him. He started to gasp at the unexpected maneuver, but the sound became a groan when familiar lips latched onto his neck. The brunette arched slightly at the sensation, and the lips opened further on a moan at the resulting contact. The sweep of a tongue along his throat was replaced by moist, panting breaths against the reddened skin.

“Merlin, Potter,” Draco groaned, “do you have any idea how bloody sexy you looked in the courtroom today?”

Harry let his head drop heavily onto the shoulder behind him at the sound. His boyfriend had started occasionally calling him by his surname since he had fully taken on the title of Lord Potter, and for some reason, he found it quite arousing to hear. The increasingly breathless words that followed, which included descriptions of his poise and forcefulness when addressing the other Nobles, had a very similar affect.

Within moments he was gasping and arching continuously into the busy mouth still licking and nipping its way up and down the corded muscles of his neck. It didn’t help his composure at all that the other Slytherin was rolling his own hips in time with Harry’s movements, effectively grinding his noticeable erection into the shorter wizard’s arse. Pale hands joined in, sliding beneath the carefully chosen robes briefly before pulling the shirttails free and slipping under it as well.

The sounds escaping the two sixteen-year-olds grew in volume as one hand ceased its exploration of the young Noble’s stomach and slithered down. The pale fingers hastily opened the fly of the trousers, then dove inside. Harry cried out as his lover gripped the hard flesh he found there, the brunette’s hips moving faster as the wizard struggled to decide if he wanted to push back against the length that continued to rut against his arse, or forward into the fist now working him into a fever pitch.

Draco’s attention was equally divided between the firm globes against which he could not stop thrusting, and the hard flesh he was attempting to grasp in something resembling an up and down motion. Both were too bombarded with sensation to really care either way. They just kept moving against one another, grasping and moaning in turns as the pleasure built until a few frantic thrusts caused the brunette to explode with a shout. The sound of his lover’s cry and the sudden feel of Harry’s cum covering his hand prompted a similar reaction in the blond.

The arm that had been wrapped around his waist tightened, pulling the young Lord back against the rapidly thrusting hips, allowing him to feel the burst of hot fluid, even through both of their pants and trousers when the blond came moments later. The almost manic energy that had encompassed them slowly drained away and soon enough they were holding each other up as they caught their breath in the aftermath. Harry decided he could grow very found of the warm, moist puffs of breath against his skin when his boyfriend buried his face into the shorter wizard’s shoulder.

It wasn’t until their hearts had finally begun to beat more normally that the brunette found the energy to turn his head to try and meet what he knew would be a stormy grey gaze. The movement dislodged the blond from his hiding place and he wearily tilted his head just far enough to almost glare at the other wizard. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, however, a soft pop signaled the arrival of a house elf on the other side of the door. Green and grey both fell shut on a sigh at the subsequent invitation to tea that was made through the wood.

The couple took a few breaths to savor what was left of the afterglow before resignedly beginning to make themselves presentable, knowing that their absence from the tea table would only be tolerated for about five short minutes. Anything longer than that would see the Lady of the Manor visiting them in person. And then they would have to deal with the disapproving and mildly suspicious looks from both adults for the rest of the day. Which is why four minutes later, the two sixteen-year-olds were taking a seat across from the elegant blonde, their bodies charmed clean and their clothes freshly changed.

That was a trend that continued. Even at school during their sixth year it seemed that one friend or another would come to their dorm any time they had been inside by themselves for more than an hour, just to talk or arrange a study time, or some other innocuous reason. Neither wizard would be surprised in the least if Narcissa had somehow arranged unofficial chaperones for them among the children of her friends. Even with their peers being overly conscious of their alone time and their Head of House watching them with resigned annoyance any time they were remotely within his sight, it was nothing next to the summer they turned seventeen.

Harry, having been a thrice-titled Lord in his own right for almost a full year, and Draco, being of age, chaffed at the scrutiny. They spent nearly as much of their time trying to stay out of sight as they did attending their last set of summer lessons. Not even half of that time was spent doing more than sitting together and talking or reading or working on the various parchment that their age or station required of them. Their first week back they had relocated every hidden nook and cranny within the mansion that they had found as children while playing hide and seek and other games.

The small nook by the ballroom with its silk covered chaise became a favorite of theirs. It wasn’t even a place that no one else was aware of. Hardly any of their quiet spots were, rather they were out of the way locations no one was as likely to disturb them. Even with such odds, the adults still managed to check on them at unexpected moments to see how they were doing on their summer assignments or ask if they needed anything fetched while they ran such and such errand.

The behavior was understandable of course, but frustrating, especially when they really needed a few minutes to themselves, such as the last day before the start of their seventh year at the castle. The first stage of Courtship was divided into four spans of seven months each. Seven months after Harry had presented the Opening Gift and Draco had given the Acceptance Gift, they had exchanged their second gifts, and now, seven months later, they were to exchange their third and final Courting Gifts. Once they had, they would have another seven months until it would be time to exchange Promise Rings and enter the second stage of Formal Courtship.

Since these, the third gifts, corresponded with the first of September, they had decided that they would take the step just before they left for school so they didn’t have to do it during the mad rush of the start of term. Neither wizard wanted such an event to be rushed or unduly stressful. The act of giving gifts and the progression of their relationship that it represented mattered more to both of them than the gifts themselves.

That wasn’t to say that they didn’t care what they gave each other, but they had agreed before the second gifts were exchanged that they would rather spend their time enjoying one another, rather than use it trying to pick out perfect gifts. Neither wanted to jinx things by saying that they would have a lifetime to give perfect gifts, but that didn’t prevent them from thinking it. Though, by the second week of the term, thinking about anything outside their mandatory class and court duties was hardly at the top of their list of things to do.

Fewer aches as a result of a decrease in growth potions and a lack of OWLs was made up for by the increase in the number of court sessions Harry was required to attend personally, regardless of his school schedule. Even so, the couple did their best to make sure they had as much time together as possible. And that the time was as private as they could manage.

April, perhaps more than any other time during the year, prompted a concerted effort to carve out enough time that would be truly private. Not because seven months at the castle had left them chaffing at the constant company of classmates – much – but because April was twenty-one months after the presentation of the Opening Gift and signaled the transition between the first and the second stage of Formal Courtship, called Consideration. That milestone was marked by the giving of Promise Rings. These rings were a demonstration of their mutual commitment to the Courtship process and a promise to remain devoted to the relationship they were developing.

Picking out the piece of jewelry had been second only to the selection of his Opening Gift in terms of the stress involved. Thankfully, Narcissa had provided him with her peerless fashion sense and calming support. Even so, the young Lord couldn’t avoid a sudden case of nerves as he approached Godric’s meeting room that April evening. What if Draco didn’t like the ring he had chosen? What if the blond decided that he wasn’t ready to advance to the second stage after all? They were only seventeen. And it wasn’t unheard of for a couple to delay the advancement of a Courtship at this point. Merlin and Arthur had never formally made it past the exchange of their Promise Broaches, after all. What if Draco…

Harry bit down on his lower lip rather harder than necessary in an attempt to halt the destructively circular thoughts. Swallowing once, then twice, the brunette made his way into the familiar room. He shifted the small box from hand to hand nervously as he waited, glancing up once again to make sure the Founders had all done as promised and gone off to one of their other portraits for a while.

Despite being shoved down, his nerves were still there and caused the athletic Slytherin to stumble as he spun on his heel to make a third circuit of the room. He reached out automatically with one hand to catch himself on the nearest chair. Unfortunately, he did so with the hand that was holding the ring he had picked out for Draco. A muttered curse and several frantic maneuvers caught the angular leather ring box before it tumbled to the ground. Several unflattering adjectives in regards to the size of the box echoed through the empty room as the brunette rubbed at the knuckles that had smacked against the edge of the table.

The Merlin-be-damned thing was too small. Though, Harry _was_ absently impressed with the fact that he had actually managed to catch it before it hit the floor. Maybe he should have been a Seeker. Too bad all his other studies and duties had made playing Quidditch for the Slytherin team too far down on the priority list. He still got to play private games with Draco on the Manor’s small pitch area, so it wasn’t like he never had the opportunity to fly the racing broom he had received for Yule a few years before. Draco probably would have loved to play for their House team as well, but even he hadn’t had the time to devote to practices and games that would have been required during the last six years at the castle.

This year they barely had the time to devote to each other, he grumbled silently before sitting briefly at the table, where he proceeded to fidget his way through almost five minutes. The young Lord had come straight to the meeting room when he had returned from his meeting with the Gringotts account manager for the Hogwarts Trust. Even with all the years that had passed since he had officially undertaken his role as a Founder’s Heir, there were still new details about the long vacant role that came up for him to address with the bank. At least the Wizengamot was on Ostara Recess for another couple of months, otherwise they may not have been able to carve out enough private time today.

And he and Draco both had been adamant about wanting this step of their Formal Courtship to be truly private. Green eyes darted down to the small leather box, marveling again at how small it was. The box, and the item inside seemed far too tiny to cause the amount of anxiety currently making his heart race in his chest. Yet the bit of mithril nestled amongst the white velvet inside stood for too much to do anything else. The pounding behind his ribcage increased momentarily to the point that he could feel his head throbbing in rhythm with it as the door suddenly began to open to reveal the Malfoy heir.

The young Lord was equally relieved and disappointed when the blond joined him, though he felt a little better when the grey eyes jumped from frame to frame in an apparently nervous desire to confirm they were empty. Seeing that Draco was just as nervous as he was, helped to calm him just enough not to drop the box he was holding or the one he exchanged it for.

Harry was hardly able to make out the shining band his boyfriend had just handed him, too focused on watching for the blond’s reaction to opening his own. Narcissa had recommended that her son’s fashion sense would appreciate something slightly unique, prompting the messy haired wizard to pick out a thick mithril band that was slightly squared. Perhaps he should have gone with one that was thin and smoothly rounded like the more traditional band Draco had certainly picked out. Not that he was looking closely enough at his own to be able to tell. He simply knew that his boyfriend was well aware of how much he appreciated the traditional things after his years in the Muggle world without a family history to speak of.

When green met grey, he realized the other wizard was doing the same and they smiled crookedly at each other before resolutely looking at the rings they had each just received. His heart raced for a different reason as he took in the exact sight he had been expecting, warmth filling his chest and stomach. The relief he felt was ridiculous, it wasn’t like there had been a true possibility of the taller wizard not choosing to progress their relationship, but the fear had darkened the back recesses of his mind anyway. That fear dissolved upon seeing the prefect ring nestled amongst dark silk in the elaborately etched silver ring box he now held. A shift in the grey gaze told him he wasn’t the only one experiencing that unreasonable up and down of emotions.

The Malfoy heir seemed to recover just that little bit faster, though, as he soon took a deep breath before reaching out to slip the band onto the ring finger of his Promised’s wand hand. Draco blinked and took another deep breath, belatedly processing that exact thought. Harry was his Promised now, not just his boyfriend. Suddenly the blond couldn’t wait to get his own ring on, and the moment he was done with the Potter Lord’s he eagerly held out his wand hand for the brunette to slip his on for him.

They both said the traditional words of promise to Consider a future binding between their Houses, but the staid recitations were heavy with the feelings behind them. Their words were so heavy in fact, that Godric’s sudden voice felt as though it rattled amongst silent echoes when he asked if they needed him and the others to come back later.

The question startled the couple, surprising the young wizards with the evidence of how much time had passed since they had begun their exchange. After clearing his throat somewhat awkwardly, Harry told his ancestor that the four Founders were welcome to re-enter their master frames. Whatever response the famous wizards and witches might have made did not register for either student, their minds already elsewhere.

The first step of the Consideration stage lasted a period of three months and was the opportunity for them each to prove their worth. For the Initiate, that meant showing that they could provide a house and home of sufficient quality and meaning. For the Recipient, it meant showing that they could reflect well on, and be a good addition to, their potential new House. Traditionally that began with planning a wedding that would make the Initiate’s House appear to advantage.

Both Slytherins spent the next couple of months trying to sneak around each other in order to communicate with the elder Malfoys or the Malfoy house elves in their efforts to arrange something appropriate for the night of their graduation. Neither Harry nor Draco wanted to attempt such a grand and important gesture while at school, but they also did not want to put such a thing off until the end of the three months allotted.

It was not a stress-free time by any stretch of the imagination. The blond found himself more than a little short on sleep by the end of April, unable to make his mind shut down enough to allow him more than a few hours of sleep each night. By May, he had given up on getting enough sleep and had instead started using those hours to handle the majority of his correspondence with his father while his Promised was sleeping. Harry all but fell into bed by the end of the day, hardly able to stay awake long enough to kiss the Malfoy heir goodnight.

Despite the brunette’s obvious exhaustion, Draco couldn’t help but feel somewhat jealous of the other Slytherin’s additional court duties, since they allowed him to leave the Hogwarts campus several times after April. Even though court was not actually in session again until the end of June, the Potter/Malfoy Bloc had a few meetings scheduled that the young Lord was required to attend. The arrangements he was trying to make, the blond thought as he watched Harry hurry towards the castle’s front gates, certainly would be easier if he could speak to Lucius or the elves in person.

Not wanting to waste time thinking about exactly how much easier it would be, he quickly made his way back to the dorms to read through the most recent letter from his father so he could decide what he needed to have the Knobby and Snobby do next. Maybe if he got everything he could done while the brunette was gone, he would be able to actually get some sleep tonight. In addition to making his days more stressful, the lack of sleep was starting to affect his mood and he didn’t want anything to mar the little time he had to spend with his Promised. A few weeks later, he considered making the same recommendation to Harry, except that the young Lord was still falling asleep practically on his feet at the end of the day. The rest he managed, while more than his boyfriend, was still clearly not enough.

The Lord Potter was growing more short tempered with every day that brought them closer to their NEWTs, though it had little to do with the stress of the actual exams. Their pre-Hogwarts education and summer tutors had ensured that neither teen needed to engage in the frantic, all-encompassing study sessions many of the other seventh-years were currently experiencing. It was their duties outside the school that weighed the heaviest on them. For his part, the shorter wizard was drowning in court parchments. This Ostara Recess, their bloc was determined to write and prepare a new reform to address the accepted marriage rites and the laws that governed the respective halves of the couple after marriage.

Harry tossed the quill down in frustration, then ran his hands over his face with a sigh. Draco rolled his eyes at the action as he put away his wand, having quickly spelled the ink off his Promised’s fingers before he smeared it all over his face. That almost playful expression soon returned to one of sympathetic helplessness as he listened to the brunette vent.

“I simply don’t know how to say what needs to be said. It’s straightforward to me. The existing laws on blood bonds and marriage rituals are simply not fair. Even to those it favors.” The young Lord pulled a bit at his hair as he stood and began to pace, though he moved rather carefully in an effort to not disturb his familiar where the Kneazle had fallen asleep beside his desk after an exhausting effort to calm his master. “But how do I explain that to old, ignorant, lazy Nobles who are so used to the way things have become that they can’t even comprehend the fact that it hasn’t always been that way and that maybe, maybe, the changes they are ignoring were not for the better?”

Several aggravated sounds and a lot of pacing filled the next half hour as the shorter Slytherin went back over the current limitations placed on witches before and after marriage. “It’s ridiculous,” he practically yelled at one point, “and at times almost barbaric! It _should_ be simple to get them to see the truth, but so many in the Wizengamot still refuse to see anything they don’t want to.”

His physical energy seemed to drain out of him suddenly, and the Lord Potter dropped onto the edge of his bed. “And it’s not just witches. There’s inequality even between consorts and within same sex couples. It has to be _fixed_ , Draco.”

Grey eyes met green and the taller wizard joined his Promised on the bed. “I know, Harry. But it doesn’t have to be done all at once. Or even in the near future. You have a long career ahead of you on the court. And so do I. We’ll get there eventually.”

The words did not seem to be as reassuring as the blond had hoped. The other teen covered his face briefly with his hands, not looking up as he spoke in a low tone. “We can’t wait for eventually. Those kinds of laws will make it harder for both of us to be considered parents of any children we have. Each one will only biologically belong to one of us. The other will have to adopt them and that will be effected by these laws too.”

Silence descended on the dorm room for several long seconds before Draco moved even closer. Harry still refused to meet his boyfriend’s gaze but a pale hand slowly forced his chin up so the couple was looking eye to eye. The vulnerability in those green pools left the blond struggling to wet his mouth enough to get out a few words. They were too important not to force out, however, and after an aborted start, he managed.

“Harry I-“ Draco cleared his throat and tried again. “I love you.”

Another silence filled the dungeon room, but it was broken only a heartbeat later. Neither one had said the words before, and hearing them for the first time swept away all the frustration and anger and helplessness the brunette had been feeling. Other lighter emotions rose up, almost choking him as Harry responded in kind. “I love you too, Draco.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer before moving, simultaneously, to close the small amount of distance between them.

The kiss was rough and passionate, their tongues battling for dominance and hands making short work of the clothing that separated them from bare flesh. As they crashed onto the bed, Draco falling on top of him, Harry had just enough presence of mind to shoot an additional privacy charm at their door to keep out any of their fellow Slytherins. That little brain-power was overwhelmed completely by the influx of sensation when the blond’s lips began to wander.

By the time his chest and stomach were wet and well kissed, Harry was squirming on the mattress, moans bouncing off the vaulted stone ceiling. Draco’s hands were as active as his mouth, and no inch of skin above his waist was left unexplored. Harry couldn’t fully process exactly what was being done to his body, too overwhelmed with the pleasure that was being created by the blond. When the Malfoy heir conducted a simultaneous attack, his lips sealing around an already wet nipple and his hands drifting ever lower, his victim cried out. Harry’s arms flailed out to either side, his hands attempting to find purchase on the emerald quilt.

Unable to anchor himself, the brunette arched sharply, helplessly, upwards as another spike of pleasure seared through him. The frenzy of resulting sensation that engulfed the young Lord enacted itself in a way Draco had not expected. Harry yanked the blond up with desperate hands and then rolled them until they were situated on the other side of the bed, the pale wizard beneath him.

The brunette simply couldn’t control himself as the urge to _taste_ reared up within him. Before he had even fully processed his intent, he had slithered his body down until his head was level with his lover’s cock and swiftly engulfed as much of the length as he could. Just as Draco’s mind managed to become fully aware of the change of position, his awareness was out-shadowed by a sudden feeling of heat. Wet heat. Grey eyes fell shut with a long moan before they were able to take in the sight before him. The unmistakable feel of a tongue sweeping along his cock, from root to tip, jolted his gaze down to where a messy head of familiar black hair obscured the cause of his mounting desire.

Several seconds, and an overwhelmingly pleasurable suction, eventually made Draco realize exactly what was happening. He attempted to speak, and when all he managed was a choking sound, he tried to reach down to those dark strands to get his lover’s attention. He wanted to tell Harry that he didn’t need to do this. He wanted to tell him that nothing had ever felt so good. He wanted to simply say his Promised’s name, but all that came out was a guttural noise. Before the blond could make another attempt, he felt his orgasm build with almost frightening intensity until hardly any thought was possible.

Draco’s head slammed back against the pillows, pale hair spread out in a halo around a face contorted with pleasure as he cried out his release. In the aftermath, panting breaths filled the heated air between them. Harry pulled back almost reluctantly, then collapsed onto the now wrinkled quilt. As the blond struggled to catch his breath, a heavy lidded grey gaze took in the sight of the brunette’s heaving chest, then traveled downward. As exhausted as his lover happened to be, one part of Harry was more than a little awake. The sight of that length, where it bobbed proudly between tanned thighs, stimulated a hunger Draco had never felt before. He spent another moment watching Harry’s flushed face where it lay, slack and flushed with exertion.

The sound of labored breathing slowly quieted and unexpectedly, it was the Malfoy heir who recovered himself first. Draco managed to wrestle the brunette back up and beneath him before the shorter wizard was fully aware of what had happened. The blond swallowed whatever the other seventh-year would have said as he devoured the red, swollen lips, tasting himself briefly before moving across the expanse of tanned skin available to him. The taste of sweat and _Harry_ stirred his own passion back to life as he traveled steadily toward his destination. He reached it in a matter of seconds, and without hesitation, Draco attacked.

In a frantic need to show his Promised the kind of pleasure he had just experienced, he swallowed the other Slytherin’s cock with the same enthusiasm he had previously received. Draco sucked and licked and worked as much of the hard flesh into his mouth as he could manage. And then he swiftly pulled back before surging forward once more and starting over again. When he had envisioned doing this for Harry, he had always thought it would require thought, and effort to properly stimulate his lover. In the moment, however, all he could do was enjoy the slightly bitter taste of his lover’s precum as he swallowed around the other wizard’s girth with a moan.

As focused as he was with the weight of his boyfriend’s cock on his tongue, the blond could not keep his hands still and without his conscious effort they were soon grasping the firm globes of his lover’s arse. The pale fingers pried the globes of flesh apart and slid down into the crevice that was revealed, continuing their journey until they met the furled hole hidden within. Harry cried out at the first brush of fingers on his entrance, a sound which only grew in volume as the digits explored the rim and the space just beyond.

The sound traveled straight to Draco’s cock and he was absently amazed when he was able to recognize that the strength of his lover’s muscles and the dryness of the passage would require something more than his own desire to make his sudden need a reality. And need was exactly what he felt. He needed to be inside the smaller wizard. Some part, any part, of him needed to feel the heat and the grip of Harry’s body. And even as his mouth continued to explore the length of flesh, he drew back for a brief gasp of air. On that same breath, the blond reached desperately with his free hand for his discarded wand and muttered a familiar spell.

His lips had re-sealed themselves around Harry’s arousal almost before the last syllable had been spoken. Had the brunette been able to do anything expect think _hot, wet, pressure, Merlin that feels good_ he still would have barely been able to differentiate the time that passed between the spell and the invasion of a single slick finger. That digit, coated in the conjured lubricant, teased its way past the outer ring of muscles in moments and was soon halfway inside the young Noble.

Lord Potter’s body seemed unable to decide if it wanted to push its length further into the eager mouth in front, or work back against the smaller invading length behind. The decision became moot as Draco wiggled his finger, trying to get it all the way in, and inadvertently made contact with something that wrenched a sob from the brunette. The sound, and the explosion that followed, had the Malfoy heir panting with more then fatigue as he drew back to avoid over-stimulating his boyfriend, and himself. Draco whimpered softly as he pulled himself up to lay beside his lover, even the quilt, as it brushed against him was too much after two orgasms.

Long minutes passed before their pleasure faded enough to spare sufficient blood flow to their brains in order for them to recall the spell to turn down the bed and then pull the covers up over them. Once tucked in, the couple rolled instinctually towards one another and limbs entwined without their owners’ conscious thought. Neither had to think, however, to know they were safe and warm and exactly where they wanted to be.


	6. Consider Me Yours

Unlike the average seventh-year, putting on a suit and formal robes instead of a uniform while at the castle, was not a new experience for the youngest Lord on the Wizengamot. Harry Potter was far from unfamiliar with the experience. Even Draco, as he did not leave the campus regularly to attend to Noble duties, had only worn formal wear on campus when attending the two balls that had been held during their tenure at the school. Therefore, the excitement that most of the graduating Slytherins were feeling as they readied themselves to leave their dorm for the final time, was notably diluted in the couple’s dungeon room.

Not that they didn’t feel some enjoyment at the prospect of having officially completed their time at Hogwarts. Harry and Draco both were eager to move on to the next phase of their lives, but so many life-changing things had happened over the last seven years that finishing school didn’t really make it very far up the list of milestones or accomplishments. They had, after all, managed to help take down the manipulative old bastard that had once been the most respected wizard in the country. Plus there was that small matter of permanently defeating Voldemort in which they had played an essential role.

And then there were the various bills and laws and other reforms which the Malfoy Bloc, then the Malfoy/Potter Bloc, then the Potter/Malfoy Bloc had forced through the Wizengamot since Harry had assigned his Proxies years before. For some reason, they were more proud of meeting those goals than they were at having each received Outstanding NEWTs in their classes. Despite the upcoming event being rather anti-climactic, neither had any wish to forego the ceremonial boat ride across the castle’s Black Lake. Each, for their own reasons, were happy to focus on the simple leaving ceremony and all that came before in order to not think about what was going to come after.

If nothing else, this academic milestone was important to the people sure to be waiting on the other bank, so they would give the occasion their respect. With that in mind, green eyes swept over his freshly knotted tie, making sure it was properly positioned and tucked neatly into the silk waistcoat he had chosen. The black shirt and waistcoat went well with the dark grey of the suit coat and the slightly darker charcoal of his tie and kerchief. The tiny white dots on the last two added just enough contrast to keep the ensemble from appearing funeral, in Harry’s opinion.

He was going for somber but sophisticated, a look he had been honing over the two years of his time on the court and the brunette was pretty sure that he had gotten there. The young Lord Potter was resolved to become known for an understated but sophisticated style that he wouldn’t mind wearing for the foreseeable future. As much as he appreciated all those comportment and presentation lessons he had received from Narcissa over the years, he would never have Draco’s fondness for fashion and as far as he was concerned, simple was better. And harder to mess up.

After giving his coat a last tug to make sure it was sitting properly, he turned his attention to the much more pleasurable task of looking over the three piece grey silk suit that successfully flattered his Promised’s slim but muscular build. His gaze lingered on Draco’s crisp white shirt and then followed the thin black tie down to the grey waistcoat. If his eyes followed that piece of clothing down to where it met the waist of the matching trousers it was only to make sure that his best friend would meet the elder Malfoys’ discerning standards when they disembarked from the tiny boats.

The green eyes continued making their way back to one place or another on the blond for the rest of the morning, especially when he followed him up the stairs to the entrance hall. The occasional lifted brow and amused look in grey eyes showed that Draco was well aware of his boyfriend’s preoccupation. He was rather more interested in the way the Lord Potter’s robe sat on his strong shoulders than he was on adjusting the sliver of white kerchief that peeked above the pocket on his own suit jacket after all, or adjusting his open robes.

Both wizards spared a few glances for their friend when the Longbottom heir met them outside of the Great Hall. Harry gave his godbrother a nod and a smile at seeing the normally relaxed looking wizard dressed so formally. Draco shot his green-thumbed friend an amused smirk at the sight of the black suit and yellow tie and kerchief.

“One last bit of ‘Puffie pride?” the blond asked with his normal hint of snide enjoyment.

Neville rolled his eyes, happy to use a good-natured argument about his being a Hufflepuff in order to distract himself from the impending meeting with the adults in their lives. For all that he had grown much more outgoing and confident after becoming friends with the other two heirs, Neville was still most content to be in the background. His Graduation from Hogwarts would hardly allow that to happen if Augusta had anything to say about it. When the seventh-year class finally completed its procession down to the lake and boarded the boats - whilst attempting not to get their formal garb in too much disarray – the three friends had to separate to traverse across the lake.

They met back up on the other side, however, and were promptly descended upon by two teary Ladies and two proud looking Lords. Sirius Black’s grin held a tinge of devilish glee, and Lucius looked like he had accomplished something momentous as they approached to give hugs – or handshakes – and congratulations. Several minutes passed, filled with exclamations and sniffles and smiles. By the time the families of the now Graduated students began to disperse from the lakeside and made their way to various locations to celebrate more privately, Harry was sure his ears were beginning to ring.

The Potter-Black-Malfoy-Longbottom luncheon was only slightly subdued a few hours later. Narcissa and Augusta spent more time reminiscing about their childhoods and how their Lordlings were all grown up now. A nondescript photographer arrived half-way through the meal to take pictures of the seventeen-year-olds alone, together, and in every other combination possible. The group had even eventually gone through a round of afternoon drinks and extended conversations at Longbottom Hall.

It wasn’t until five o’clock that Draco, with his father’s help, managed to extract himself and his Promised. The Ladies Malfoy and Longbottom resisted at first, but when a forewarned Lucius whispered the reason to his wife, the young couple was allowed to slip off. Their escape was not made, however, without a glare from Neville at being left alone with the weepy witches.

The frustration the blond felt from the somewhat dramatic farewell quickly changed to a nervous trepidation as he led the brunette to an Apparition point where he pulled the shorter wizard close with more hesitation than he had used since they first became a couple two years before. That reluctance did not escape his lover’s notice and one dark brow rose in question as the taller wizard turned on his heel and Side-Alonged them to the grounds of Malfoy Manor.

Upon their arrival, green eyes swept over their equally green surroundings with interest as Draco told him, with an uncharacteristic lack of confidence, that he had made arrangements for their dinner. Harry wanted to ask what was bothering the other former Slytherin, but refrained from speaking when he noticed that the blond looked a little uneasy. The minute pallor to the face of the Malfoy heir combined with the almost panicked light in grey eyes left the young Lord unable to ignore a small pang of his own nerves as he was led to the hedge maze. If he had been aware of the effort his boyfriend put into not speaking at that moment in time, Draco would have been quite thankful.

The Malfoy heir was far too busy reviewing and second-guessing the decisions he had made about the upcoming dinner to hold any kind of conversation right that minute. As he hadn’t been able to come to the Manor in person during his preparations he himself didn’t know exactly what they would be walking into as they entered the Maze and headed toward a dead end in the back corner where he had decided he wanted Knobby to set up their meal. Draco’s breathing quickened slightly as they neared their destination. His father had indulged him enough to have the elves set up the table to the younger blond’s specifications and after examining it himself, extracted a memory of the sight and brought his pensive to a Hogsmeade weekend for his son to view.

Despite having seen it second-hand, he was still uncertain if things were going to be as he had wanted them. The Malfoy heir did his best not to let out a loud sigh of relief at the sight that awaited them. He had chosen to have things set up next to one of only two trees that grew within the maze itself. From the branches hung two crystal chandeliers, their candles casting a soft glow over the table setting below. The meal was meant to serve as an example of a possible reception, a display of his ability as the Recipient to provide a fitting wedding and home for his Initiate’s Houses. He had been sure after his father’s last visit and series of letters that he had gone about things the right way. But this morning, and now more than ever, he worried that his choice of location was too predictable or overdone.

As he watched his Promised catch sight of the table, he worried even more. The process of designing the area had been a lengthy one with a lot of back and forth with the house elves and Lucius. His main concern had been that it not end up looking too feminine. He had eventually decided on a white silk tablecloth, blue and white bone china, plain crystal glassware, and a simple centerpiece of greenery, tiny white flowers, and a single candle encased in glass.

As green eyes darted over everything, Draco was concerned more than ever that he had made the wrong decisions and he scolded himself for not doing it differently. Neither spoke for several seconds and the silence hung over the blond like an axe. He scrambled to explain his thinking behind those decisions while simultaneously assuring the brunette that he could have elves set up the dining room instead.

“Obviously, we wouldn’t have it in the maze. I was thinking further out in the grounds, near the orchard. Or maybe near one of the ponds. We could have the meal inside though, of course. In case it’s cold or something. Or we could use a large-scale climate charm instead. But we could certainly use the formal dinning room for the meal and then the ballroom for the rest of the reception. Or maybe in the gardens. If we eat outside. I liked the look of the chandeliers in the trees. Though it’s not as formal as it would be inside. We could have a more traditional setup there. The ballroom, like I said. Or the-”

Harry had lost count of the number of times since they had first started dating that his boyfriend had resorted to a physical distraction in order to stop him from getting lost in a panic, especially since he had taken his place on the Wizengamot. It had always worked remarkably well, and the brunette was almost a little excited to finally be the one to employ the tactic. So, in a slight reversal of roles, the young Lord stepped forward and cut off the anxious words with a kiss.

When they had approached the table, Harry had felt a lot of the tension draining away as he realized what was happening. When they had first headed to the maze, he could only think of his lordship party and what had followed, making him worry that he had chosen the wrong night to plan their visit to the ruins. He was inundated with relief and worry both, that such was not the case. His arrangements for after the meal could go ahead, and that was a weight off his shoulders. An instant later, he realized that also meant he would have to go through with his plans and therefore risk a negative reaction.

Harry found himself very tired of that combination of relief and concern. He had certainly experienced it a lot during the courting process but with a deep breath, he decided to enjoy dinner with Draco and think about the rest later. The sudden case of nerves evidenced by the blond when he failed to immediately comment on the dinner arrangements was an adorable distraction for him. The kiss he used to silence those nerves was even better.

When the wizard in his arms finally relaxed against him, Lord Potter sighed into the kiss. Harry allowed himself a few moments to enjoy the familiar taste before stepping away to complement the table setting and its surroundings.

As soon as they took their seats, Snobby popped in, his tea-towel extra white and its pleats starched and pressed into sharp lines. Harry smiled briefly at the creature as it placed a fancy platter of hors d'oeuvres on the table, but wasn’t able to keep his gaze from Draco’s for very long. Having resolved to savor the meal and the company, he focused his attention on the taller wizard as he explained the various culinary options. The percentage of those foods that were his favorites from the formal dinners they had attended over the years, and those that were obviously picked to appeal to their friends and family, proved the amount of time and effort that the Malfoy heir had put into the meal. The food was obviously not the only thing to receive that effort, as the blond was a positive font of ideas about every aspect of the reception.

The conversation that flowed between them as they ate focused mostly on what they each envisioned for the wedding. Not having had any time to spare for such thoughts over the last few months, the brunette was at a distinct disadvantage but he was happy to leave the bulk of the talking up to the blond. His nerves made an occasional reappearance, but the young Lord forced them back each time and endeavored to keep his mind busy with other things.

Harry found it not very hard to distract himself. His Promised looked quite good in his formal robes and suit, and the candlelight was quite flattering to his pale hair and complexion. The blond seemed almost to glow beneath the chandeliers. It certainly also helped that, as a type of reception preview, the meal consisted of a lot of finger foods. In addition to being tasty, watching Draco eat them and often subtly licking his fingers clean after a bite, had him thinking about the rest of the night in a far different and more anticipatory manner. So much so that he didn’t have to talk himself into standing from the table, closing the distance and pulling him close when they had eventually finished the meal and the wine that had followed.

It took only a moment to settle himself enough to Apparate away with his Promised and was even able to enjoy the surprised and disappointed look on Draco’s face as they appeared in a secluded copse. Then the moment was gone and nerves hit him full force as he led the other man out of the covered area and onto a hillside that overlooked the expansive stone ruins of a castle.

In the few minutes it had taken to reach the hill from their Apparition point, Lord Potter doubted every decision he had made over the previous months. Tonight had taken a very long time to plan and organize, and at more than one point in the process he had feared that he would never even settle on an idea he liked, let alone properly execute it. The brunette knew he had his former guardian to thank for managing to enact what he had. As the Initiate he was to show his Promised that he could, and would, provide an appropriate home for them after they married.

To that end, the Lady Malfoy had spent weeks going over the options with him, in person, and through letters. Every property he owned or might consider purchasing, had been evaluated with this evening in mind. In the end, he had finally decided on an ancestral property which had come to him through the newly revived Peverell line. The building which had stood there since the time of Camelot had fallen to ruins hundreds of years before, but the vast amount of work that would be required to make it livable was outweighed by the history of the place. The symbolism had simply been too perfect to resist.

Even so, it had been a very difficult decision, and hadn’t been finalized until Narcissa had helped him come up with the idea to have the Malfoy elves set up ‘a room, to show how grand the home will be when it is finished.’ It had been a tall order, but eventually it had all come together. The blonde witch had been a lifeline during the process and even helped him sneak off campus to double check his arrangements in the guise of Wizengamot related business. He had been happy with how it had looked two days before, but now he feared he had made a mistake. Maybe he should have picked a fully completed and furnished property? Maybe Draco would think he was being unnecessarily sentimental with his choice?

The couple had gotten half-way down the secluded pathway to the ruins before the famous wizard was able to find his voice. Finally succeeding, Harry haltingly began an explanation of his plans for the destroyed castle. His nerves left the words stilted as a part of him couldn’t help but worry over the fact that none of the actual repairs or building had been started yet, since he hadn’t had the time or focus to devote to them while they were still in school. The brunette rambled through a brief history of the sight as a piece of Wizarding history and Muggle mythology.

“It became a large Muggle tourist attraction in Victorian times, actually. One of the later versions of the Arthur myth named Tintagel as his birthplace.” Harry took a deep breath, gesturing absently at the crumbled stone walls they were approaching. “Evidence that some parts of the genealogical history made it through, I guess. The Muggles have a few indications that Arthur’s mother lived at Tintagel, like I said, but they believe the later ruins are all that’s here and so academics insist that it can’t be the home of Pendragon’s mother because it’s not old enough,” the brunette let out a small burst of nervous laughter as he went on, “can you believe that?”

The Gryffindor heir cleared his throat and led his boyfriend to the remains of the guard tower. “When the last member of the Peverell family owned it, they left it to a favored retainer that had once saved their life. The man had been a Half-blood, and when that person only had squibs, the Wizarding house was replaced by a Muggle construction which eventually became the ruins that the Muggles see. Some remnants of the older town that grew up around the original have been located by Muggle archeologists, though.”

The flow of words cut off and Harry took a deep breath. He started to explain exactly what an archeologist was, but stopped himself and waved it away as unimportant. “Anyway, there are a few complications getting the proper wards and charms set up to convince Muggles everything that was left was destroyed in a series of storms and freak examples of extreme erosion.”

The young Lord was so focused on not tripping over his own feet while he explained, that he missed the amused expression on the blond’s face as he continued to speak. “I will have to do more, of course, to convince any curious historians or archaeologists that there’s nothing there worth looking for or anything so that the Muggle repelling charms and notice-me-nots will be properly effective once they’re placed.”

The shorter wizard took them along the walkway the Muggles had installed to allow tourists to reach the rest of the castle. He made use of the white metal handrails as they went, taking a long moment to inhale deeply in an effort to order his thoughts and suppress the fluttering feeling in his chest. “I’ve had a Taboo placed on the name and location so that any time the name is spoken, the person is filled with a certain conviction of it being a waste of time and a bad idea to look into it.”

Upon reaching the end of the walkway, they made a circuit of the bailey and what standing walls there were. With every pile of stones and collapsed structure the castle’s owner grew more uneasy. Grey eyes took it all in with apparent interest but as Harry couldn’t seem to stop talking, the other former Slytherin had yet to actually say anything about what they had seen.

“So construction hasn’t been able to be started yet, it will have to wait for the charms and wards and everything.” The young Noble bit his lip as he heard the words out-loud, then rushed to mitigate that statement. “It won’t be long, though. The first construction spells can be cast in a week or two, they said. And the building will start right after that. I have a quote from a magical construction firm and architectural plans already drawn up. After we approve everything, it will be less than a year to have it all in perfect order.”

They turned and headed back the way they had come to meet the track that led down to the beach beneath the ruins, the brunette’s words falling faster than their footsteps. “I know, it’s cutting it close. But I am sure it will be fine. We can always hire extra workers to finish it in time, if need be.”

Harry did not allow the blond to reassure him about the accuracy of that statement, instead he kept rambling about how he knew there would need to be time to furnish and design the interior but that he already had a firm working on that so it would be ready to install and set up as soon as the construction was finished. “It will look great, once it’s done, I promise. I know you can’t really see it now, but it will be more than sufficient, really. And you will be looking over all the plans with me, and checking on things as they go, so if there is anything you don’t like we can change it. We can make it into just exactly what we want, I swear.”

Harry cleared his throat audibly before take another deep breath as they stepped onto the small rocky beach that led to the entrance of a sizable cave. When the tide was in, it would only be accessible by boat, but for now, with the tide low, it was easy to make their way to the opening from the cliff path.

“There,” he began, only to have to swallow hard to re-wet his mouth before he could speak again, “There is one area that we can see now, though. It, uh, it is called Merlin’s Cave. Supposedly…”

The dark-haired wizard cut himself off again, and took yet another deep breath. He absently worried about doing it so much, a part of him afraid that if he didn’t stop that he might well hyperventilate. Though with how he felt, he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he did that anyway. The amount of nerves he’d had leading up to this night had been nothing compared to the way his stomach dropped and turned as he ushered his Promised into the cave. Harry had to swallow down the urge to gulp in a breath as he began the tour.

It appeared at first to be a fairly small, dark cavern, but Harry took the pale hand in his own, hoping Draco didn’t notice how damp his palms were. The hesitant scorn on the blond’s face was replaced with surprise when they stepped through the back of the cave, the rear wall acting quite like the entrance to Platform 9 ¾. The huge cavern they entered past the barrier was an expanse of pale stone out of which had been carved a long flight of steps and several decorated columns. Light filtered down through something past the top of stairs, casting shadows on the rough sections of ceiling and walls that remained rough and un-carved.

“When I first got here, there were remnants of very old preservation charms. That barrier charm was almost completely deteriorated. The warders I hired believed they were originally constructed not long after the original keep, around when Arthur would have inherited the castle.”

At the top of the stairs were three passages. One led to a large area that gave no hint to how it had been used. The second passage opened into a deep pool of seawater that appeared to be steaming just slightly in the cool air. A low slab of stone at one end looked polished to a gleam, the glow from a few candles that had been placed there sparkled off the water. The little bit of light that came in naturally cast an almost purple gleam on the stones.

“It seems like this might have been some kind of underground flat with access to the castle,” Harry said quietly as they left the pool chamber and returned to the third passage. They followed that to another set of carved steps leading to a small ante-room under a stone arch that had been furnished with a low white bed covered with pillows and surrounded by it candles. The only other thing in the immediate area was a small wooden table with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“I think that’s why it was named after Merlin. It looks like Arthur might have had it constructed to give he and Merlin somewhere to be together so I… well I thought it might be fitting, kind of. Not that we would be hiding or need somewhere to be together because we will be together, I mean, not like either of us will be having a political marriage like Arthur. Not that…” The brunette felt panic bubble up into his throat, choking off his voice as he stumbled to a halt with a small whimper. Harry was filled with the sudden certainty that he had bollocks up the whole explanation. He silently gestured Draco to go ahead of him up the stairs, green eyes wide and tanned hands rubbing on his outer robe to clean off the gathered sweat, waiting fearfully for a reaction.

Another room was just visible through the doorway past the bed, but the large mattress, covered in white cotton and silk obviously held the attention of the grey eyes. How would Draco take it, he wondered? Maybe he was being too forward. Maybe the set up was too cliché. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. A voice in the back of his mind quavered with the insistence that he would not be able to actually go through with this. Nothing had ever felt as awkward as the wait for his Promised to say something. He hoped somewhat numbly that everything at least _looked_ impressive just in case he didn’t live up to the blond’s expectations in other ways that night.

Throughout this process, he had struggled with lingering self-doubts, left from his years with the Dursleys. Though he had grown quite confident in his academic and political abilities over the last decade, he had found the old insecurities peeking out at him at different points throughout the two years he and Draco had been together. They haunted him in that moment, even stronger than they had when he had presented his Opening Gift. The indecision that resulted froze his muscles. Should he just jump in? Or ease into it? Give it up entirely?

Harry trusted himself now in the courtroom, he was more or less used to taking the lead there, but he was not very comfortable taking the initiative in this type of situation. The Initiate bit his lip, wincing internally at the bad pun. Maybe he could use it to break the ice? As horrible a joke as it was, it might make Draco laugh, at least a little. At this point, even an awkward laughter would be an improvement. He opened his mouth to say something, and nothing came out. He tried again… still nothing. The brunette let out a silent groan. He was just standing there, gapping like a fish. He had to do something. Anything.

With the energy born of panic, the Lord Potter surged suddenly forward, covering his lover’s mouth with his own. The collision was far too rough to be considered romantic, and with another wince, Harry jumped back.

“Shite. Sorry. Sorry, that was… I didn’t mean it like that… I mean, I meant to kiss you, but I didn’t mean to…” A tanned hand rose and covered his rapidly blushing face. He had ruined it. Again. Why had he thought he could do this? And he _had_. He had honestly thought he would be able to do this. It wasn’t like they had never done anything before. It wasn’t even that Harry had never initiated intimate physical contact between them. He may not be the one to always take the lead, but he could do it, had done it. Just because Draco had almost always been the one to take care of him – to one extent or another for most of their friendship and subsequent relationship – that didn’t mean Harry couldn’t be the one to instigate this.

With a long, deep breath, the brunette lowered his hand from his face and chanced a look up. The wry amusement in those grey eyes was familiar, as was the gleam of anticipation focused on him. That familiarity, and the fact that the blond did not look at all disappointed, or awkward, or annoyed with him for ruining the mood so thoroughly, was enough. The young Noble swallowed back all the doubts and anxieties and forced himself to slowly step forward, take his boyfriend’s face in his hands, gently, and kiss him.

This time, the kiss was slow and soft and sweet in just the way he had envisioned. He kept his hands on the pale cheeks, his thumbs brushing slightly back and forth as he brushed their lips together. The kiss deepened but their movements did not grow faster or more passionate. Their tongues slid around each other, sweeping into one mouth and then the next. Back and forth, slowly, gently. Without even realizing it, they backed themselves closer to the stairs until Draco nearly tripped on the first step when the brunette nipped his lower lip.

Harry blushed lightly as he pulled away just enough to see what had upset the blond’s balance. Biting his own lip with embarrassment, he took the pale hands in his and led his Promised up the short flight of steps. He paused to pour them each a glass of champagne, the popping of the cork causing him to jump slightly with nerves as Draco took a seat on the edge of the mattress. The young Noble joined him, handing off the second glass and taking a larger sip of his own than he would normally be wont to do.

Draco noticed and promptly followed suit, the couple draining their glasses in short order as the silence began to feel slightly awkward. Harry set his flute on the small wooden table nearby, the glass of its base hitting the surface with a clink, and cleared his throat. A cold feeling began to bubble up in his gut as he wracked his mind for an idea of what to do next. The dilemma was solved when the blond leaned over to set down his own empty champagne flute, his leanly muscled form too close to the other wizard for the brunette to think of anything but Draco for several heartbeats in a row. It was long enough for the nervous anticipation and love to force down the rising panic, leaving him with a need to touch and feel and taste. To please, in every single way.

With that in mind, tanned hands reached forward, stopping the blond from moving back away, and instead pulling him towards his Initiate. And then on top him, as Harry slowly began to lean backwards until he was reclined against one set of pillows. He could feel his blush darken as Draco situated himself on the mattress, supporting much of weight on his knees so that he was essentially straddling his slightly smaller lover. As soon as he had done so, grey eyes locked on green, then flicked down to where Harry was once more biting his lower lip, the sight causing the familiar silver-grey to turn to a more charcoal shade.

Before Harry’s anxious mind could distract him with an evaluation of the exact color of grey, the blond leaned closer, his forearms bracing themselves on either side of the brunette’s head. Draco placed a chaste kiss on the reddened lips, prompting the Lord to open his mouth slightly and thus release the hold his teeth had gained. As soon as he had done so, Draco began to sooth the abused flesh with his tongue, drawing a quiet moan from the Noble beneath him. The small sound sent a shiver down the taller wizard and he began to explore the familiar mouth and throat with a groan of his own as the salty flavor of Harry’s skin combined with the sweet taste of champagne in his mouth.

The nerves that had clung to them both fell away in the wake of more powerful sensations. For all that they had done many intimate things together, the knowledge that tonight they would pass an invisible line between them, worked as a potent aphrodisiac. It wasn’t long before they were both moaning, their movements gaining speed and passion until they were tugging none-too-gently on each other’s robes and discarding pressed suit jackets with impatience. Ties came off next, their enthusiasm leaving the blond gasping for breath after a rough tug of the thin black silk tightened rather than loosened the knot momentarily.

While Draco swiftly removed it himself, Harry closed his eyes, silently berating himself for the complete lack of romance inherent in accidentally choking his lover whilst trying to undress him. Green eyes flew open a moment later when a few muttered words in Latin suddenly had them both completely naked from the waist up. Those verdant pools glazed as lips sealed around his left nipple, the blond sucking firmly before switching to his other nipple with a lick and nip.

The next several minutes were a blur of moans as the Malfoy heir worked his way southward with passionate determination. Upon reaching his goal, pale hands easily opened the closure of his lover’s black trousers, though they did coincidentally brush several times against the hard flesh still trapped within Harry’s pants as the remainder of the brunette’s clothing was pulled from his body. The sound of breathing, interspersed ever more frequently with groans and gasps, began to echo in the stone chamber.

Harry simply could not contain the long moan that spilled out as the hands he reached towards his Promised were batted away in order to allow the taller wizard to lap at the Noble’s steadily leaking pre-cum with an eager tongue. The brunette gave up his attempts at undressing his lover in favor of grasping at the white sheets as that tongue worked its way down the shaft, then back up. His hips rose towards the warm wet mouth of their own volition as Draco started to place almost chaste kisses around the crown. When the kisses turned much less chaste, he struggled to release his hold on the white linen in order to grab the white blond strands.

“S-Stop,” he cried with short tugs on the hair. A soft pop sounded as Draco pulled reluctantly away to look at his lover with a petulant expression. Harry could feel himself blushing again and opened his mouth to answer the silent question. A sudden rush of nerves blocked the words in the back of his throat, however, and he changed his mind, asking instead for the blond to remove his own pants as well. The young aristocrat was more than willing to do as he was bid, and stood swiftly to push his trousers and pants down over his pale hips.

As more and more skin was revealed, Harry couldn’t keep from becoming distracted. Draco’s cock stood out in more ways than one, the pink head a blatant contrast to all of the creamy flesh around it. It wasn’t until his Promised had joined him on the bed once more, and began to rut gently against his smaller lover that he recalled why he had asked the question in the first place. The slide of the blond’s heated and hardened flesh against his own ripped a cry from his throat and jolted him back to the present.

This time he grabbed Draco’s naked hips, trying to halt their movement as he attempted to force out the words he had originally intended. He managed to still his lover, but still no words came. With a nervous croak, Harry wandlessly summoned a small glass bottle instead. “It- uh, it has lavender in it. To-to, soothe, and uh-”

Grey eyes, having narrowed in response to his lover stopping him yet again, widened as soon as the meaning of what Harry was trying to say finally made it past the haze of lust clouding his mind. A feeling close to surprise filled him. He had known, of course, where things were intended to go that night, but having gotten caught up in the feel of his Promised’s naked body, he had almost forgotten. Surprise was overtaken by inexplicable shyness as he reached for the bottle and carefully coated two fingers in the lightly scented oil.

After placing the small container next his empty champagne flute, he watched the tanned legs shift, the knees bending and the feet bracing against the white sheet. Draco’s breathing began to quicken as he caught a glimpse of the small pink hole hidden between the muscles of his lover’s arse. They had done at least this much several times now, and he had discovered that he was very fond of it, so he was anything but hesitant as he worked first one, then two, fingers into the tight heat. As he added a third, the grey gaze remained locked on the sight of his fingers disappearing inside his Promised.

A soft intake of breath pulled his eyes away and up to Harry’s flushed face, which he immediately noticed was not reflecting the same pleasure he knew his own was. Draco stilled his hand, preparing to withdraw his fingers, but the young Lord was quick to protest.

“D-Don’t. Don’t stop. It’s okay, please…” the breathless voice cut off with a groan as his lover began to move again, adding a slight twist as he plunged his fingers gently forward.

“Yes, yes. Like that,” Harry whispered, his hips starting to rock into the movement. Draco didn’t see that, however, as he was too busy watching that flushed face. The pleasure that had been missing before became deliciously obvious and the blond silently admitted that he could probably cum just from watching Harry’s face like this.

Harry, however, had a different preference. He wanted more than just those three digits. For the first time, he unquestionably wanted to be filled, to be invaded. For Draco to be inside him. “More. Please. D-Draco. You. Want you. Want you in me.”

The blond stilled as the air left his lungs. He had to swallow past the dryness in his throat to ask if Harry wanted to move onto his knees. They had both read more than one source on the subject over the last year, and knew that was the position recommended for the first time. But the Malfoy heir couldn’t help feeling relieved when his lover shook his head.

“Want to see you,” the Lord Potter panted, causing the blond’s pupils to dilate noticeably as the tanned legs fell open in a blatant display. As exposed as the position made him feel, Harry felt his heartbeat race when his boyfriend positioned himself above him, one pale hand sliding from his lover’s hip to his thigh before grasping tightly and lifting his leg to better position himself. Taking a moment to recall the illustration and make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, Draco used his other hand to spread some more oil on his cock and line himself up with the waiting furl.

The blond pushed forward slightly, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as if blocking out the sight would help him control the urge to bury himself inside his lover. With his eyes closed, he missed the grimace on Harry’s face as he pushed against the resistance until suddenly, the head of his cock breached the tight ring of muscle and slid in rather further than he had intended. Grey eyes flew open and he froze as the brunette stiffened beneath him and gasped in what sounded like pain. The expression on his Promised’s face looked like pain as well, and he immediately began to pull out.

“Harry! Are you okay? I-” his worried apology was cut off with the movement of a single tanned hand. That hand grabbed onto his hip, stilling his frantic withdrawal.

“Wait. Just wait, just give me a minute.” He took a deep breath and tried his best to relax. He didn’t want to stop now. He had known, of course, that there would probably be a little pain the first time and had convinced himself that he was ready for it. He was. He just hadn’t quite expected the burning stretch and the strongly uncomfortable pressure that he could feel inside. All his reading had stressed being relaxed and allowing his muscles to loosen and stretch to accommodate the intrusion. He could do that. For Draco, for the closeness he knew would come from taking this step, he could do that.

When he took another deep breath, a pale hand cupped his face as the other hand slowly stroked up and down his raised thigh. “Okay, Potter. Okay. Relax, luv,” Draco whispered as he kissed him gently, breathless with the effort it took to hold still.

Moments passed and the tanned face relaxed, the wrinkles on his scarred brow smoothing out. “All right, go ahead, you can move a bit now.”

The blond hesitantly began to do so, going as slow as possible and watching his lover’s face anxiously for any sign of pain. Green held grey, hoping to keep his attention focused elsewhere in case he failed to hide how much it was starting to hurt once again as Draco’s cock slid further and further inside.

Soon Draco was fully seated, his breath leaving in a rush as he let his head fall forward to rest in the bend of Harry’s neck. He caught his breath and held his muscles bow-string tight so that he wouldn’t move before his lover had managed to adjust to his invasion. After several heartbeats, he felt the tightness around his length lessen just slightly and hazarded a glance at the Noble’s face. Harry gave him a small, but fairly convincing smile. “Better?”

The brunette nodded. “Yeah. My legs are a bit sore, though,” he admitted as he tried to shift them slightly to relieve the cramping. The movement caused both wizards to gasp, then moan.

“Can- Can I move now?” Draco asked almost desperately.

Harry nodded in response and with a grateful sigh, the Malfoy heir pulled part way back, then pushed forward. His slow, tentative movements soon built speed and confidence as the traces of discomfort disappeared from his lover’s face. The young Lord smiled encouragingly up at him, wanting to somehow communicate the fact that he was enjoying the closeness he felt having Draco actually inside him. The fact of what was happening left him feeling warm and content.

Then Draco lost his grip on the toned thigh for a second and hiked it up further to regain his hold. The change in position made the blond hit something inside and Harry couldn’t help but cry out as pleasure spiked through him. He reflexively stiffened both legs, then hooked them around the slim waist to pull Draco closer. “Do,” he panted, wide-eyed, “do that again.”

Understanding made it past the blond’s own pleasure and the Malfoy heir realized what had happened. Determined to do as Harry asked, he tried to repeat the same movement. It took three tries, but it was obvious he had succeeded when the young Noble shouted his name. Bracing himself against the bed so he could continue to hit the same place again and again, Draco rolled his hips as sharply as possible. A few labored breaths later and Harry was returning the thrusts, arching up into the blond. They moved against each other with more speed and strength and passion.

Harry tossed his head from side to side even as Draco tangled his hands in the unruly strands. With a tight grip of the dark hair, the taller wizard held his lover’s face still so that he could attack his mouth before pulling back with a cry of his own.

Lord Potter took the opportunity to let his gaze lock on the space where they joined, watching as his lover’s cock disappeared inside him over and over again. Then on another cry, Draco’s face captured his attention as the blond reared back and plunged his hips forward with a gasp of Harry’s name. The young Noble was finally distracted from the fantastic view as the last, frantic thrust hit just the right spot with considerable force, causing him to echo the blond’s cry as arched up, and came as he distantly noted something that felt almost like a surge of wetness inside him.

The thought made no sense, but Harry couldn’t care less as they both collapsed together in a tangle of sated limbs, panting into each other’s mouths until the cave’s cool air and the sweat from their exertions made them shiver. Draco started to pull away from the other former Slytherin in order to reach for the blanket folded neatly on the floor under the wooden table. The movement and the resulting squelch as their stomachs peeled apart left them both suddenly aware of other cooling fluids. The couple exchanged a somewhat embarrassed glance as the blond grabbed the blanket and the brunette hastily summoned his wand.

Embarrassment was forgotten as the cleaning charm swept over them and they cuddled closely together under the blanket. They lay silent for a time as their body heat built up between them until, warm and comfortable, Harry let out a contented sigh. Draco smiled down at his lover, absently trailing his fingers up and down the bumps of his best friend’s spine.

“So, no political marriages for either of us, eh?” he whispered into a tangle of black hair.

Harry felt his face heat at the reference to the awful ramble he had gone on earlier that night. His arms tightened around the taller wizard, lodging his head beneath the blond’s chin to prevent his Promised from seeing the red on his cheeks. “No,” he said, “I am doing just fine in politics all on my own.”

The Noble grunted slightly as a pale elbow made contact with the side of his ribcage, then both laughed softly. Another few minutes passed, the couple simply enjoying holding on to each other before Draco ventured a question.

“How are the preparations going for the new reforms?”

“There are still a few of the old bastard’s die-hards that seem determined to make things as difficult as possible for us. Ollivander was trying to work up the moderates again, telling them how dark we are and how we shouldn’t be trusted.”

Draco made a sound half-way between disgust and amusement. “Well, that probably won’t go away any time soon, but those little gerbils will have a damn hard time convincing very many of very much.”

The blond traced a slow pattern on the warm skin of his lover’s chest as he talked. “The vast majority of the Magicals in this country see you as the epic defeater of the darkest wizard since Grindlewald, and that holds fairly true in the Wizengamot. Plus many of them, even outside the bloc, see you as their equal, if not their political or social superior. You are a Founder’s Heir and the Lord Peverell. They are hardwired to respect you, even if only for your titles.”

Harry nodded absently, having seen more than one Noble defer to him in the court or in a social situation despite knowing they were not particularly fond of him, whether for his political stance or his age. Even so, most all of the Ancient and Noble Houses seemed to look at him because of his titles with the type of adoration the masses he encountered looked at him because of his famous defeat of Voldemort.

“And that,” Draco stated, pausing to drop a kiss on the brunette’s unruly hair, “is without taking into account the number of Lords and Ladies who have been impressed with your intelligence, knowledge, and demeanor while in the Wizengamot or the meetings with the Hogwarts Board.”

Harry smiled a little into his lover’s chest, doing his best to subdue the slight blush that wanted to form. A decade with the Malfoys had done a lot for his sense of self, but he would probably never have the innate self-confidence and expectation for compliments that Draco did. “Your father and I have already planned out who will be seconding the motion when the time comes.”

The blond swept a hand up and down his back a few more times as the shorter wizard continued. “I am hopeful that the outcome will be what we want. But the prevailing opinion about the old ways and ritual magic has been so skewed over the last couple decades that it will be a bit of an uphill battle to allow the use of them, let alone have them added back into the curriculum like they had been originally.”

“I heard you talking with Godric and Rowena about the last letter from Lady Longbottom. It gave me the impression that you had decided to wait until at least next Fall Season to introduce the bill to reclassify some of the blood magics.” Those they were anxious to have removed from the list of frowned upon if not illegal magics, were of course, those associated with blood adoptions. It would be necessary to make the change so that they could both eventually be considered full blood parents of any children one or the other of them genetically fathered.

Harry nodded in response. “Yes. Once it is legal to use and teach the older, ritual magic, we should have an easier time changing views and laws regarding blood magic, don’t you think?”

“I would think so. You might want to wait a year or two in between them, depending on the reactions. If we push too far too fast we could face additional reluctance, especially by the public.”

The brunette sighed, burrowing just a little into his Promised’s side. “Yeah, probably. Some people will need to grow comfortable with having it used and taught to their kids before we can address blood magic specifically. But we _will_ get there.”

Draco pulled his lover even closer, contorting himself slightly so that he could look into Harry’s face when he spoke. Before doing so, however, he couldn’t resist giving the Lord Potter a short kiss. “Yes. We’ll get there, Harry,” the blond said softly, with a tone of voice that clearly referred to more than just Wizengamot reform.


	7. A New Camelot

If either wizard had been under any impression that once they had graduated, that they would no longer have lessons to attend, they were corrected a mere week later. It reminded Harry rather strongly of their summers, when half a dozen tutors cycled through the Manor every few days. Now, their tutor was almost exclusively Lucius, though occasionally Sirius came to meet with Harry regarding his inheritance of the Black title.

Lessons in estate and portfolio management, investment, and other duties connected with their inheritances and Lordships, as well as political training for roles in the Wizengamot increased. As intense as it was for them, the young couple didn’t truly mind as it gave them plenty with which to distract themselves from the timeline of the Courtship’s Consideration stage, which they had entered into. There were only seven months from the exchange of Promise Rings to the signing of a contract, and only three months were traditionally given to negotiate that contract.

Even with Harry also busy with court and endless efforts to relocate and reorganize what remained of the Potter, Peverell and Gryffindor estates and investments, he still felt a ticking clock in the back of his head every night when he went to bed. In July, Draco as the Recipient, needed to present a draft of the contract to begin the negotiations.

The blond knew that he had a month and a half to do so, but he was afraid to wait until the last minute. So while his mother was busy planning the brunette’s birthday celebration, and Harry himself was attending a meeting at the bank, the Malfoy heir took the opportunity to have a solicitor come and meet with him and his father to draw up the first draft of the contract.

In the two weeks since the end of their seventh-year, Draco had spent many nights composing ideas and lists in head and on hidden scraps of parchment. It was most common for couples to start with a template and just make changes in a couple of areas, but with the status of both wizards involved and the uniqueness of the situation with Harry and his Houses, many changes would be needed.

It took several meetings both at the solicitor’s office and elsewhere, to hammer out what the Malfoy wizards thought would work best. As the Initiate’s House had dominate standing socially, politically, and legally, he was required to present it to Harry for revision before they could both eventually give their approval. Reaching that point was the whole purpose of the three month negotiation. In most cases, the contract went back and forth up to half a dozen times during that period, but Draco was still determined to do his best to cover everything as perfectly as possible, preferring to get such technicalities out of way so they could enjoy as much of those three months as possible.

One week before Harry’s birthday, during a lull in the various schedules that had been extremely difficult for the blond to orchestrate, Draco approached his lover in their sitting room. The former Slytherin could feel his heartbeat so strongly, his fingers seemed to move with each beat. He was sure that his hand was shaking when he held out the sheaf of parchment he had spent so much time and worry on over the last weeks.

“Having received your suit and given the Promised Consideration to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor, and the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, on behalf of myself and the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, I present to you this Contract for your perusal and our mutual negotiation over this second stage of our Courtship.”

Green eyes widened briefly as he recognized the formal language of the contract presentation, then shifted to focus on the parchments themselves. After a slight pause, Harry cleared his throat and took hold of the contract. “On behalf of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor, and the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, I receive this contract from the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy for perusal and our mutual negotiation over this second stage of our Courtship.”

The brunette swallowed again to help push down his sudden nerves, and did his best to sound something approaching suave as he set the parchments aside without looking at them. “At this time, the Houses of Potter, Peverell, Gryffindor, and Black do not agree with the contract as presented by the House of Malfoy.”

Draco felt his stomach drop, a cold feeling starting in his chest and sweeping outward to his fingertips. Before he could panic at the thought of Harry calling things off or having a serious problem with something regarding their relationship or their Courtship, the shorter wizard continued speaking.

“I believe we will need to,” green eyes moved over the slim blond, from his head slowly down to his feet, “negotiate.”

Realization hit the Malfoy heir at the blatant perusal. He swallowed audibly as his heart began to race in anticipation. “How,” the blond’s voice cracked and he licked his lips, stalling to give himself time to get it back under control, “how can I _convince_ your esteemed Houses of the House of Malfoy’s position?”

The Lord Potter’s bravado started to waver in the face what he considered his lover’s more effectively seductive gaze. In an effort to return Draco’s heated glance, Harry put on as sexy an expression as he could manage. It must have been good enough, because he didn’t have to make any actual suggestions. Without another word on his part, Draco moved swiftly to grasp the brunette in a tight hold and covered his mouth.

The force of the kiss propelled them both several steps backward, the couple only stopping when Harry’s back made sudden and near violent contact with the wall. The pale hands on his shoulders only shoved him more firmly back while the brunette took advantage of the wall’s support to lift himself enough to wrap his legs firmly around his lover’s slim waist. As he tightened his hold on that waist, their lengths made deliciously solid contact, and the young Noble took advantage of his leverage to grind himself against the weight pressed against him.

Draco followed suit, pushing every inch of his body into Harry’s, trapping him against the wall for several satisfying seconds before stepping back. His hands grasped the flesh of his lover’s arse, holding him aloft just long enough to stumble back from the wall and towards the nearby settee. One of the beds held in the adjoining rooms would haven been more comfortable, of course, but a distant corner of his mind worried about the Manor’s elves informing the Malfoy Lord and Lady that they had been alone together in a bedroom. No matter the stage of their Courtship, the blond aristocrats were sure to have something very strong to say about such a thing. His parents would probably have something to say about it even after their wedding were it to occur in their house.

Therefore, since the elves would never actually come into the room, he took advantage of the fact that as long as they remained in a ‘public’ space, they could also take full advantage of the adults being out of the house. The Manor’s heir just managed to reach his destination before his grip began to falter, choosing to go along with the combined force of gravity and momentum to drop the slightly smaller wizard onto the thick carpet beneath the settee with as much grace as possible. As if he had fully intended to deposit his lover in exactly such a fashion, Draco followed the brunette down, pausing to hover over him for a moment before trailing kisses southward towards another destination.

That journey was halted by a hand tugging gently on the white-blond strands. “I believe it is my turn, this time,” he whispered with something that would have been confidence if not for the shy hesitance in the green eyes.

Draco paused, swallowing hard at the thought, then nodded silently and waited to see what his boyfriend would do. A deep breath belied Harry’s indecision before he bucked his hips to dislodge the blond, then rolled them, careful not to come too close to the small table nearby. As soon as he had successfully reversed their positions, the brunette started to trail his lips along the skin he was steadily revealing as he worked open the cotton shirt Draco was wearing. As he pulled the last button free and moved to start on the belt buckle, the young Lord paused, his breath ghosting over the damp skin of his lover’s stomach.

Harry bit his lip as an overwhelming urge rose within him. He thought about what he had read as he helped divest his Promised of the shirt, trousers, and pants, then stood to remove his own clothing. The first time he had seen it mentioned in a book he had been surprised and rather put off, but the more he read and the more he thought, the more he realized the fluttering sensation in his gut when he pictured it was not from unease at all. It was from want. As he started to lean down to resume his previous activities, he wanted. He wanted so strongly that he could not keep himself from settling his hands on the pale hips and giving them a tug.

“Turn over?” He had meant to say it more as a heated command, but even he heard the almost timid question mark at the end of his statement. Harry bit his lip again when grey eyes glanced at him in confusion.

“Please?” the brunette asked even as he felt the self-doubt rear up in him. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he should wait and talk to him about it another time, let him read about it and then broach the subject more carefully to feel out how the blond might react to the idea. Then, if Draco was completely disgusted at the thought, he wouldn’t have to deal with any potential fall out of his having tried it. But then, he would never get to try it. He would never know what it was like. And he wanted to know. He wanted to feel, and taste. He _wanted_.

His hands trembled ever so slightly with a combination of fear and desire as he took hold of the pale hips once Draco had moved, a deep breath fortifying his courage before he pulled upwards to position his lover on his hands and knees. The Noble could feel his boyfriend start to tense, and gave in to another urge, his hands spreading out over the two, muscular globes of flesh and massaging them firmly for several minutes. Draco had done that several times for him, and it had never failed to simultaneously arouse and relax him. Harry was pleased when it did the same for his blond lover.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he positioned himself behind the other wizard and leaned forward, exploring the skin of Draco’s lower back with his lips, and then his tongue. The brunette inhaled deeply as he kissed between the splayed fingers of his still flexing hands. He could smell soap from the shower the blond must have taken just before he came in, a distant part of him wondering if Draco had done so in an effort to relax or calm down before presenting the contract. Harry brushed away the thought absently, already absorbed by the idea of what he was about to do. Before he lost his nerve, he surrendered to the mounting desire and shifted his grip, pulling the gorgeous arse cheeks apart and kissing what had been hidden between them.

That desire froze within him as his lover reared up and pulled away at the first brush of warm lips on his entrance. “Harry! What?”

The shocked question was drowned out by the voice screaming at him inside his head. What had he been thinking? _Gods, that was a stupid thing to do_. The brunette scrambled to his feet, his shoulders hunching forward instinctively. “Sorry! Sorry. I-”

Green eyes darted away from the still kneeling figure of his boyfriend. Even as his face burned with embarrassment, he felt his entire body grow suddenly chilled. Harry wrapped his arms around his naked midsection, shielding himself as best he could from the cold, and bracing against any further reaction. Before that could occur, he stumbled backwards, his legs hitting the low table as he turned, ready to escape into his bedroom while the silent recriminations gained ferocity and volume inside his head. One hand had loosened its grip on himself just long enough to grab for the doorknob when another, paler, hand took hold of his shoulder and kept him from opening the door.

“Harry, wait-” The words cut off the moment he made contact, Draco feeling a stab of hurt at the unmistakable way his Promised flinched at his touch. Loosening his grip, and softening his voice, the blond did his best to calm the shorter wizard and coax him back to the settee. “It’s all right, Harry. I’m not mad or anything. I just… What exactly were you doing?”

The brunette flinched again, hunched over in a display the likes of which Draco hadn’t seen since they were children. Unable to spare a thought to the fact that they were both still fully naked, or that the previous air of excitement and arousal had evaporated completely, the Malfoy heir focused on getting his boyfriend to talk to him. “Harry, luv, I don’t understand. I only want to understand.”

After a heavy silence, the brunette only shook his head, gaze resolutely on the two tanned hands gripped tightly together, covering his flaccid cock. Draco sighed, then inched closer to his lover on the silk cushions, but not close enough to touch. The sight of his Promised flinching away from him would not disappear in a hurry. “Please, just… explain it to me?”

The young Lord’s breath hitched at the pleading tone, his own voice a whisper when he finally responded. “It, it was nothing. It was a mistake. I won’t,” he hunched forward a little further, “you don’t, you won’t have to-”

When the voice cracked, his restraint cracked with it and the blond reached out to place a hand gently on the bare shoulder. “Luv, please… tell me. What was it you were trying to do?”

Another heavy moment of silence passed before Harry, braced against the rising humiliation, took a deep breath and haltingly recounted what he had read. “I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea. Just, just forget about it. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

The hand still resting on his shoulder squeezed momentarily. “It’s okay, Harry. You don’t have to keep apologizing. It was just a surprise. I wasn’t expecting…”

The Malfoy heir trailed off, then turned and tried to catch his boyfriend’s eyes. “Do you, do you really want to… I mean, with your mouth… _there_?”

Harry refused to look up, his muscles tensing visibly. The blond was determined, however, and gently but firmly pulled the other wizard’s head up until he had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Do you?”

Green eyes fell shut once again, though he jerked his head minutely in a nod. If he had been looking, the brunette would have seen the hesitant expression on Draco’s face harden before the blond gave a decisive nod of his own. As it was, the response that followed caused those verdant pools to fly open in shock.

“Okay.”

Harry stared at his lover with a mouth hanging ever so slightly open before he croaked out a single word in disbelief. “Okay?”

Grey eyes stared back calmly. “Yes,” Draco said before he stood from the settee and smoothly dropped onto the carpet on his hands and knees, then looked back over his shoulder expectantly. Harry remained frozen, visibly shocked, unable to speak for several moments. When the blond simply remained as he was, waiting, the shorter wizard slowly joined him on the floor.

“I- Are you sure? You- Draco, you don’t have to-”

The other former Slytherin cut him off. “It’s fine. Really, if you want to try this, then I want you to. If we don’t like it, we can always do something else.”

When the blond head turned forward, hanging in a rather relaxed fashion between the pale shoulders, Harry finally placed his hands hesitantly back on the tempting arse in front of him, but did nothing more. Draco responded with a quiet sigh. “I said it’s okay, luv. Go ahead.”

The Lord Potter bit his lip as he took in the sight of his boyfriend displaying himself so trustingly before him and felt a stirring of arousal. Keeping his motions slow, he rubbed the pale flesh lightly, pulling the globes apart an inch or so before he leaned in and placed a soft, tentative kiss on Draco’s arse. The muscles under his hands jumped a little at the touch and Harry jerked his head back. “Are you… is that okay?”

The blond quickly reassured his boyfriend that he was fine and told him to go ahead. Harry hesitated, then leaned back in, adjusting his grip and placing a second kiss on the tightly furled hole. When there was no notable response, he did it again, and then again, his kisses growing firmer as his desire returned. Pulling back a minute later, he checked to make sure that his lover was still okay. 

“Yes,” Draco insisted, a touch of impatience coloring his voice, “would you just go ahead and-”

The blond cut himself off suddenly when Harry finally gave in to the urge to lick the rosy entrance. “Oh!” exclaimed Draco at the feel of the warm, moist swipe of his lover’s tongue.

Worried at the loud gasp, the brunette started to ask if he should stop when he was interrupted.

“Do that again.”

Harry blinked at the unexpected request. “Really?” he asked, pushing down the hopeful spike of arousal he felt at the idea of Draco actually letting him do this. White-blond strands danced lightly as he nodded, before looking back to repeat himself. The brunette swallowed hard, then dove back in to lick swiftly and with increasing pressure. His cock twitched slightly when he felt the hole flutter under his attentions, then start to loosen. He continued until suddenly, his tongue slipped just a little ways inside, causing them both to gasp at the unexpected sensation.

“Yes,” Draco moaned, forestalling any concern his boyfriend might have shown at the noise. “Yes. More.”

At that, Harry lost what remained of his control and began tonging his lover in earnest, licking around and over the small hole. Remembering something else he had read, he stiffened his tongue into a point and pushed it past the ring of muscles with a wet stab. The blond moaned, bucking back into the wet mouth, prompting the eager tongue to move in and out repeatedly in quick succession. Draco responded by grasping at the soft carpeting, scrambling for something to hold on to. While the pale arms flailed slightly, Harry closed his mouth around the now puffy hole and sucked.

Finally latching onto the legs of a nearby armchair, Draco cried out breathlessly. “Harry! Close. So close. Please. Put it in. I want it in.”

Hearing the pleas, the brunette stopped sucking immediately and began to stab his tongue back in as far as it could go only for the blond to gasp out, “No.”

“No, want you,” the blond groaned desperately. “Want you in. Want you to fuck me. Please. Fuck me Potter.”

Panting for breath, Harry pulled back far enough to meet the glazed grey eyes as they glared back over a pale, sweaty shoulder. Not sure what to say, despite the very obvious, and very solid opinion of one certain part of him, the young Lord stared back in surprise.

“Do you not want to?” demanded the blond, causing his Promised to almost choke on his words as he rushed to assure the taller wizard that he most certainly did want to. “Okay, then,” Draco answered with a none-too-subtle roll of his hips. “Get on with it, Potter.”

Harry swallowed hard against the tide of lust that threatened to overtake him. He fought against that tide just long enough to summon some lube onto his fingers and work one, then two, then three digits into the hole he had already begun to loosen with his mouth. Draco was soon pushing back against the fingers rather impatiently, insisting that he was ready. Finally giving into his own desire and his lover’s demands, Harry moved up until he was arched over Draco’s back, one hand guiding his cock and the other wrapping around the pale waist.

That arm tightened as his weeping head bumped against the pink hole, holding the blond firmly against him. Harry wanted that closeness if they were not going to be looking at each other as they had before. Pressing a kiss to the sweaty skin between Draco’s shoulders, he moved forward, pushing slowly and checking every few seconds to make sure he wasn’t moving too fast.

“I’m fine, really,” gasped the blond as the hard length moved ever deeper inside of him. “I, I’ve been stretching myself,” he admitted almost shyly, “ever since graduation.”

Wide green eyes met darkened grey in surprise, his progress halting momentarily to focus on the quiet words. Harry bit his lip, then with a deep breath gently started to move in and out, going a little further each time until he was as far as he could go. On a moan, he asked if everything was all right, afraid to move, but having to struggle to remain still against the pleasure of the tight heat that surrounded him.

Draco nodded rapidly as he panted. “Yeah. Yes. Just give me a moment.”

Harry held himself as still as he could, though a slight tremor made its way through his tightened muscles. He had a sudden surge of sympathy for how hard his lover must have fought to stay still when he had been on the other end of things the night of their graduation. At least a minute passed and he had to grit his teeth against the desire to move. Then the blond beneath him tilted his hips back, pushing against him and he let out a choked moan. Taking his cue from Draco, the brunette started to move. Soon, he was holding onto a pale shoulder and hip to help pull his lover into each thrust as he almost pounded into him.

He managed to gasp out a question in between thrusts, asking if it were too much, if he should slow down. Draco answered with a growl. “Don’t you bloody dare. Fuck me, Potter!”

Harry buried his face against the damp skin of his spine, absently kissing and licking at the sweat gathering there as he moaned a rather incoherent response. The two former Slytherins continued to slam into each other, the sound of skin smacking together as loud as their choked-off cries. After a few minutes, the brunette’s rhythm began to falter, then dissolved into wild movements. Harry screamed into his lover’s back as he came, reaching blindly around to grasp his boyfriend’s cock and pull frantically, desperate for Draco to cum with him. He didn’t have to worry, the blond stiffened and exploded before Harry had stopped thrusting through his own orgasm.

The pale arms collapsed under him a moment later, causing them both to laugh breathlessly as Harry withdrew. They lay on their sides facing each other on the soft carpet even as a tanned hand fumbled for the nearest wand. When the brunette finally managed to cast a cleaning charm, he dropped the wand between them and simply waited for his heart to stop racing. Silence echoed in the wake of their panting breaths, neither saying anything until finally, the taller wizard spoke.

“So,” Draco asked with a grin, “are you convinced?”

Harry smiled back, leaning in without a word to kiss the blond with every bit of energy that remained.

The enjoyment and respite they had found in that physical negotiation was well timed as the rest of month proved rather busy for them both. Not only was it the middle of the Wizengamot’s Fall Season, but there was also Harry and Neville’s birthday parties, as well as the latter’s lordship celebration. It was only days after their friend turned seventeen that his grandmother abdicated her role as Regent of the Longbottom Lordship.

In his first act as Lord, Neville hosted an Introductory Party for his closest friends, a traditional event geared towards formally presenting a new couple to their social equals. It was something more or less only done by the Nobles, and only after a Formal Courtship had neared the end of the second stage or entered the third. Even during the negotiation, couples had been known to dissolve their courtships, though it was hardly a common occurrence. With that in mind, many chose to wait until Consideration ended, when they had signed their contracts and exchanged Betrothal rings.

Neither Harry nor Draco thought such caution was necessary and had been more than happy for their tawny-headed year-mate to handle that particular societal milestone for them. In addition to giving Magical Britain’s newest Lord a notable soiree to host and therefore establish his social standing among their Noble peers, it also gave the former Slytherins ample excuse and opportunity to tease their friend about his lack of romantic interest.

“I hate to see you falling so far behind, Neville,” the blond said with exaggerated concern, “perhaps you should give more thought to the list compiled by the Dowager Lady Longbottom.”

The Malfoy heir and the new Lord joked back and forth about the direness of the budding Herbologist’s straights. Harry spent most of the time rolling his eyes subtly while still smiling lordly at the many circling Nobles and socialites. He occasionally tossed in his own laughing comments regarding potential witches for his fellow Wizengamot member. The jovial atmosphere was prevalent throughout the younger attendees and was even somewhat apparent amongst the older individuals mingling around the large ballroom. A few groups of court members could be seen standing against the elegantly plastered white walls, their expressions almost indulgent as the younger voices bounced back at them off the slightly arched ceiling. 

The event left the majority of their peers in the Wizengamot and the rest of the high reaches of Wizarding society with a favorable impression of the strength and future of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom. Those who still stubbornly clung to the fragments of Dumbledore’s name and reputation had not attended, of course, and could not be included in that evaluation. The number in that category had slowly reduced over the years since the old manipulator’s unveiling and subsequent imprisonment. Even so, Harry knew that the current and former members of that group were continuously monitored by various Nobles within the Potter/Malfoy voting bloc. 

Neither his bloc’s activities nor his opposition’s was on the forefront of the Lord Potter’s mind. Despite the Summer Court Season, politics was not the focus of those green eyes, either. The Negotiation period for their Courtship was only three months long and Harry spent as much time meeting with his guardian and Godfather about that topic as he did in the courtroom and with his political allies. Not because there was really an overwhelming amount to be done on the contract, but because working on it gave him something to do with Sirius.

Harry’s relationship with the man his parents had wanted to raise him in their absence had never been what James or Lily had intended. The Black Lord had spent countless hours with Healers in the years since his release, trying to deal with the consequences of his time with the Dementors of Azkaban. He had made great strides in his recovery early on, but the isolation and mental torture had impacted his personality in such a way that having the wizard as any kind of caregiver had never been realistic.

The weekly meetings with the long-haired wizard had been important to his godson, however. If nothing else, the jovial – if permanently immature – Marauder had offered him a window into the past and a glimpse of his parents. Because of that, the recent graduate was determined to have the Negotiation experience with the Black Lord, and receive the elder wizard’s input in the process no matter how much he did or did not agree with his suggestions.

Sirius Black’s continual visits with Healers had recently uncovered a serious malady, which had been initially caused during his years in a cold, unsanitary cell. That illness had lingered in the background until it surged forward a few months before. The evaluations of multiple private experts had all shown that Sirius would be lucky to live another six months. With the looming threat of the wild Lord not being able to participate in much more of his Courtship process or what followed, James and Lily’s son did his best to include his Godfather in whatever he could.

That inclusion, while meaningful, was occasionally a source of additional stress for the brunette. The day before they had planned to exchange their betrothal rings, Draco found his Promised sitting in an unused parlor a few doors down from their bedrooms, one hand fisted in his unruly locks, and the other stroking gently over his familiar’s back. “Long negotiation session?”

Green eyes lifted at the sympathetic words, not surprised to meet a wry glance when he leaned back in his seat. Excalibur abandoned his efforts at calming his master at the entrance of the other wizard, jumping down and stalking regally from the room. Draco just grinned at the Kneazle as he situated himself on the brunette’s lap. Harry’s arms automatically rose to wrap around his lover’s waist, holding him in place as he leaned forward and brushed their lips together in greeting. Neither said anything else as they sat, wrapped around one another as they mentally prepared themselves for what was coming the next day. October, with its morbid anniversary, may not seem to some to be the most fitting time for the couple to exchange Betrothal Rings, but Harry was not bothered by the timing.

He preferred to focus on the connection between the upcoming Samhain, its emphasis on family and ancestors, and the act that would take them one step closer to starting their own family, just he and Draco. And that was the overriding thought on his mind as he slipped the ring of interwoven gold onto the blond’s finger and watched his best friend slip the wide gold band onto his own. After all, the giving and receiving of those rings did in fact signal an important step in that process, as it signaled the end of the negotiation period and began the countdown to the signing of the contract a month later.

For all that he had felt inundated with love and a sense of connection with his Betrothed when they had exchanged rings and formal words, November’s milestone was the most emotionally overwhelming step in their Formal Courtship as far as the Lord Potter was concerned. He may have almost dropped the ring box both times he had presented the pieces of jewelry to his blond, but when they had signed the contract, he had lost his grip on practically everything else, including Draco’s chair, the quill, the crystal ink pot, the contract itself, and his own composure.

Sirius walked him into the parlor of the refurbished Black estate, which his Godfather had taken great pleasure in redecorating in a blatant and ostentatious display of Gryffindor pride. As the Initiate, the contract was traditionally signed in his House seat, but with Potter House still in grievous disrepair following the first war, the Gryffindor Aerie having been abandoned in the eighteen hundreds, and the Peverell Castle not yet fully built, Black Manor was the only option. Harry was pretty sure he would have been more comfortable at Malfoy Manor, but tradition was tradition, and he did his best to present himself and his Houses with the appropriate dignity as he joined the blonds in the red and gold parlor.

The Malfoy Lord and his heir were sitting on the crimson silk chaise, with their Lady poised behind them, seemingly admiring the matching wallpaper. She turned when they entered the room, greeting her former ward with a smile. The brunette returned the expression, or at least attempted to, he was pretty sure his was as strained as Draco’s when the couple locked gazes a moment later. Sirius grinned, one hand landing heavily on Harry’s shoulder as he made an off-color joke in what the young Lord hoped was an attempt to ease the tension in the room but was probably just Sirius being as un-serious as possible.

Taking a deep breath, the dark-haired Noble took a seat, though his progress was hampered when his eyes became fixed on the stack of parchments laid out nearby. Hoping his blush did not match the ruby décor, Harry pretended he hadn’t stumbled whilst sitting down, and instead concentrated on wordlessly telling his Godfather not to say anything rude. Not that he would necessarily be saying it to _be_ rude. Most of what he said was intended to be funny, but the exonerated convict had a much different sense of humor than anyone else currently in the room. Or, Harry thought to himself, anyone above the age of fifteen. Or, more to the point, anyone not intent on flouting their rebellion against Pure-blood traditions.

Doing his best not to dwell on the irony of him having gone out of his way to include such a person in the very traditional process of Courtship, the Lord Potter nodded deferentially to his Betrothed’s father. Taking his cue, Lucius began the short formal declaration of the House of Malfoy’s Reception of the final version of the contract and his approval of the match between his heir and the young Lord before him.

Swallowing past the butterflies in his throat as the Lord Black responded on behalf of his godson, Harry tried again to decide if he was thankful or regretful of the fact that this particular stage included the participation of their elders. When Sirius actually kept to the traditional script and then led the other aristocrats from the room, he decided on the former. At least this way he had one more moment to gather his nerve.

Not that he had any doubts or misgivings about what he was about to do. He very much wanted to tie his life to Draco’s. But the lingering fear of his lover deciding against sealing their betrothal _now_ , as unlikely as that might be, had his stomach performing a rather accurate impression of a Wronski Feint in his chest. As such, he had to clear his throat twice before he could speak, and only the suddenly uncertain look on the blond’s face as he waited for Harry to begin located his voice for him.

“I Harry James Potter, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor, and heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, having reached agreement on the subject with the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, do now affix my signature to this Formal Contract of Marriage between myself and Draco Lucius Malfoy, heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. In doing so, I will seal this contract and bind our Houses in perpetuity through the wedding which will take place seven months from this, the third day of November, 1998.”

He reached out to uncap the cut crystal pot containing the ink, only to send it careening to the floor. With a silent litany of curses, the Noble hastened to retrieve it, thankful that one of his ancestors had thought to charm it unbreakable. That haste only managed to override his inherent athleticism and cause him to trip as he shot up out of his chair. The green eyes closed, blocking out whatever look his Betrothed might be giving him at the display of uncoordinated anxiety. Sitting back down, he reached blindly for his wand and silently accio’d the ink pot back onto the table.

One more deep breath, and Harry slowly uncapped the little pot and after two tries, managed to dip the quill and bring it to the parchment. After maintaining an inordinate amount of focus on his penmanship, the brunette set down his quill and watched magic spark across his signature as it waited to seal the magical contract. It wasn’t until a pale hand crossed his line of sight and took hold of the quill that he finally glanced up to meet the familiar grey gaze.

Those silver orbs were lit with fond amusement, and Harry couldn’t help but smile self-deprecatingly as he shoved down his anxiety in order to enjoy the sight of his lover signing their contract with enviable grace. No doubt, his emotions were written as clearly on his face as Draco’s signature was scrawled on the parchment, because the blond smirked back at him as he began his own traditional words.

“I Draco Lucius Malfoy, heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, having reached agreement on the subject with the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor, and the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, do now affix my signature to this Formal Contract of Marriage between myself and Harry James Potter, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gryffindor, and heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. In doing so, I will seal this contract and bind our Houses in perpetuity through the wedding which will take place seven months from this, the third day of November, 1998.” 

It almost felt awkward for him not to say anything in response, but Harry was soon distracted by the bright sparks which danced over the signatures once more. It was a heady feeling to know that he was only two short spells away from being contractually bound to his first, and best, friend. He could tell that his lover felt the same, as Draco let out an audible breath before he drew his wand. This time it was the brunette’s turn to smile fondly as he placed his hand, palm down, on the table between them.

Grey eyes narrowed slightly at the expression before focusing on that hand while he positioned the tip of his wand just so. Before either had taken another breath, the Malfoy heir had begun the short incantation and the delicate wand motions that went with it, swishing between his signature and his Betrothed’s rings, then flicking sharply at them both. Harry could feel his Promise and Betrothal rings warm on his finger as he copied the other wizard’s words and motions, incanting his signature and his lover’s rings in the same fashion.

_“Et magicae sunt et sigillum cordis fuerat alligabo!”_

As soon as the last word left his lips, a rather impressive light show began on each of their hands. When the glow had faded, each wizard’s hand featured a single ring where before had sat two separate bands. It was said that the strength of a couple’s magic and commitment to one another directly impacted how smoothly their Promise and Betrothal rings merged into their wedding bands. With that in mind, the former Slytherins exchanged smug grins as they examined their new jewelry.

The slightly squared mithril band of Draco’s Promise ring had seemed to split down the middle and reform along either side of the braided gold Betrothal ring, perfectly even and symmetrical. The plain, smooth surfaces Harry’s narrow mithril Promise ring and his wider gold Betrothal ring looked to have wrapped themselves around each other seamlessly to form a twisted band of precious metals as smooth and level as magic could forge.

Finally feeling his stomach and heartbeat both settle, the young Lord couldn’t help but stand and pull his soon-to-be husband against him for an enthusiastic kiss. Draco was grinning widely when they eventually separated, his tone as relived and exuberant as Harry felt when he reminded his lover that their family was waiting outside to see the results of the signing. Letting out a sigh, the brunette reluctantly released the taller wizard and rolled up their signed contract. Then he held out his free hand to lead the blond into the adjacent dinning room where Sirius and the Malfoys were no doubt anxious for the young couple to join them for the planned celebratory lunch.

The elder Magicals were as happy to see them and coo over the new rings as Harry and Draco had expected, and the five aristocrats enjoyed two glasses each of a couple marvelous vintages before talk turned to the upcoming ceremony. With the contract now signed and their rings merged, the wizards had officially entered the third and final stage of a Formal Courtship, that of Consummation.

Named after the consummation of the contract embodied in the wedding ceremony, rather than what Muggles viewed as following the wedding itself, the stage lasted seven months and was essentially two-fold. For the Initiate it was the time for them to establish and ready an appropriate estate and household, and for the Recipient it was the time for them to plan and orchestrate the wedding. Those tasks were soon well underway, and as time consuming as the negotiations had been. They at least offered a tangible glimpse at the life they were anxious to lead together. A life at the side of their best friend and lover, which teased them with glimpses of the future they had been dreaming of, but which was still months away.

By April, things were truly coming together for them both. With the Winter Court Season having ended, and Draco busy going over seating plans and menu options with his mother at the Manor, Harry was able to take a lengthy meeting with his design team to review the interior décor for the second floor rooms. It was during that meeting that he received word that Sirius Black had finally succumbed to the lingering effects of his imprisonment.

When he first caught sight of the distinctive white-blond hair pass the door to the meeting room he was in, Harry had felt a thrill. Then, Draco had turned and he’d caught sight of the look on his face. He’d known before the words had come out of his mouth exactly what he was going to hear. Even so, the sound of it had hit him like a bludger to the gut. He hadn’t even been aware of leaving the meeting room, or arriving at the Manor. He was pretty sure Lucius and Narcissa had been there, and he had to assume they had offered some sort of condolences, but the next he knew, he and Draco were in their sitting room and he was being pulled down into the blond’s lap on the armchair.

“I’m so sorry, luv,” Draco whispered as he drew the dark head against his chest. There wasn’t much else to say. It certainly wasn’t a surprise. The Healers had all predicted that the Black Lord wouldn’t last beyond March.

“He always was one to go against what he was told,” the young Lord chuckled through his tears. Neither had to say that Harry had started to get his hopes up that his Godfather might live the two more months until their wedding. The blond also refrained from pointing out that Mr. Lupin, the quiet wizard Harry had seen often when visiting his Godfather over the years would still be at the ceremony as a last remaining link to his father. He didn’t need to. They had talked about it more than once since Sirius’ diagnosis, and now was not the time to rehash such things. Instead, the couple sat quietly, the brunette clinging to his Betrothed as he attempted to process the reality of Black’s death.

Finally, after nearly half an hour of silent comfort, Harry forced himself to speak, simply saying the first thing that came to his mind. “Can we change the second floor designs? I don’t think I can see them without thinking about…”

The blond tightened his hold briefly, placing a soft kiss on the disordered curls. “Of course. Why don’t we go to the site on Friday? We can check on the progress and maybe come up with some new ideas for those rooms?”

The Noble lifted his head slightly from where it had been resting on the taller wizard’s chest so that green could meet grey through the lingering haze of tears. He didn’t have to ask what they would be doing in the interim. It was traditional for a Magical to be buried within three days after death, and they both knew that they would all be busy until after the funeral. He almost asked who was starting the arrangements today, but was sure it would be his former guardian and did not want to bring it up long enough to have that confirmed.

“Sure. That sounds like a plan,” he agreed quietly before tucking his head back under his lover’s chin.

He stayed more or less in that position until they made their way down to a subdued meal during which the elder blondes shot him sympathetic smiles and soft words. Nothing was said in as many words, but they both knew no elf would interrupt them if they were to find themselves in only one bedroom that night. Which, of course, they did. Cuddled close in the dark bed, with the steady purr of Excalibur close by, they held on to each other tightly, even after both had drifted to sleep.

That same wordless sense of comfort followed them to Cornwall that Friday as they Apparated into the copse of trees above the former ruins. Draco saw him tense out of the corner of his eye, as if bracing himself for something unpleasant. A twinge of worry hit the blond. Maybe seeing the castle was a bad idea, maybe Harry already associated it with news of Sirius’ passing. Or maybe he was still too upset to allow himself to be cheered up by talk of their impending future and all the great things that were waiting for them despite his loss.

Those worries proved unnecessary as the new castle came into view and the brunette visibly relaxed at the sight of their future home. Once it became clear that they were the only ones there, Harry became almost upbeat as he turned to regard his Betrothed with a tender smile. “You arranged for the workers to leave this morning?”

The blond silently took his lover’s hand and after giving it a squeeze, pulled him down the now well-trodden path and into the partially landscaped courtyard. Upon reaching the large double doors, they spent several moments admiring the skill of the woodworkers and stone carvers. As it was to be the new seat of the Potter, Peverell, Gryffindor, and Black Houses, those House Crests had been worked into the design, carved in four of the twenty square recesses that covered the large double doors. With one last admiring glance at the detailing of the stone surrounding the entrance, the couple made their way inside, where they easily found new things in every room to examine and discuss.

The House of Pendragon, the original owner of the first Tintagel, was of course not forgotten in the design. Both eighteen-year-olds pointed out the various stone renderings of the Welsh Green which adorned some aspect of the castle in every third room or so. From the first floor window, they spotted a dragon carved into the exterior wall surrounding the casement, as if the creature were peering in through the glass panes. Draco turned back to look over what the designers had done to the room since he had last visited, only to look back and find his soon-to-be husband staring down at the brick courtyard with one hand on the glass and a despondent look on his face.

Unwilling to let his lover fall back into the melancholy brought on by that morning’s farewell to Sirius Black, he did his best to lighten the mood. “Maybe we should make this one of the nurseries? That way, Pendragon can help keep an eye on things for us.”

Green eyes drifted up to the stone dragon and then over to his best friend, a slight smile pulling at his lips involuntarily. “Nurseries? Exactly how many are you planning on?”

“Well,” the taller wizard drawled as he pulled Harry into a hug, “we have quite a few titles between us, luv. If we want to ensure they each have someone to continue them, we could end up with a castle full of little ones.”

The brunette couldn’t help but grin back at the teasing tone. They both knew he was anything but adverse to having more than one child. He had been working tirelessly to lay the legal groundwork in the Wizengamot that would ensure they did not have trouble establishing full paternity for them both, no matter which one of them donated the magical and biological samples to physically create the baby. They had even had a few tentative discussions between themselves, and even Narcissa, about witches they might consider asking to act as the carrier, and who they might name as godparents.

“Why don’t we just focus on the first few for now, hmm? After all, if those end up being complete terrors we may want to let _them_ provide heirs for the rest of the Houses.”

Draco laughed and gave him a lingering kiss before pulling him into the next room, ostensibly to evaluate it as another nursery option, neither wanting to let go of the lighthearted conversation. They continued on that topic throughout the entire first floor, rehashing names for carriers, godparents, and the children themselves, as they went.

“Leon Alexander Malfoy,” suggested the young Lord. They both took a moment to consider the name. “Leon is Irish for lion, and that is the symbol of House Gryffindor. He will be the son of a Founder’s heir, after all, and Maeve helped train Magicals in Ireland before Hogwarts was founded. Plus, she did carry Merlin’s heir.”

“From whose line descended Slytherin,” Draco acknowledged, pleased with the idea that their Hogwarts House would be represented despite neither being actually related to that particular House. “Well, it would be fitting to honor Merlin since he meant so much to Arthur.”

“Not to mention Severus would be hard pressed to outright decry the middle name. Alexander Severus was the Roman emperor from 222-235, but it is an indirect enough reference to him that as annoyed as he might be, he would be unable to really say anything against it,” pointed out the brunette.

The couple exchanged a rather deviously amused expression as they entered the next room. After a silent examination of the wallpaper and the delicate plasterwork on the ceiling, the blond offered up another name. “Lucas James Black.”

The brunette stilled. He didn’t have to point out that the suggestion utilized both of their fathers’ names as well as that of the wizard who should have been allowed to be like a father to him. Draco watched him closely as his lover thought silently for several moments, then gave a small nod. Harry cleared his throat in an effort to swallow back the tears he could feel threatening behind his eyes, then forced levity into this voice as he steered them back in a more cheerful direction. “And what if we have a girl?”

“Well obviously House Potter can have her,” he sneered playfully, then pulled his lover close for another kiss before turning ever so slightly more serious. “She would have fewer problems with inheritance as a Potter, since there are stipulations about gender in both the Malfoy and Black House charters.”

The brunette acknowledged that with a nod, then turned thoughtful. “And her name? What do you think of…”

The Lord Potter trailed off momentarily, then he bit his lip as if hesitant to voice his idea. “I had thought maybe Iolanthe Maree Potter. Iolanthe is the name of the last Peverell, of course, and it means violet in Greek. Sirius said my mum was just as obsessed with flower names as her mother had been, and I thought she might have liked that.” 

Grey eyes glistened with a hint of moisture at the tentative words, then continued on where he had left off, knowing that his lover would prefer to keep the conversation light. “Well, I think it would be lovely, and it goes so well with Maree, which we both know is the most important part,” he said with an exaggerated smirk, referring, of course, to the fact that that name had once belonged to the granddaughter of Vivien Lac, who had first married into the Malfoi family in France.

Harry let out a soft laugh. “Yes, of course, luv.”

They both fell silent as they wandered over to another window, this one facing out into what would soon be a sprawling garden. “This would be a good view for a nursery. I think our children will be happy here.”

He had spoken the statements almost decisively, but the questioning tone proved his lingering insecurities in the wake of his grief. The blond moved behind him, wrapping his arms securely around his lover as they both stared out the window for several long seconds. He knew the shorter wizard was referring to more than just this particular room, and more than just their future heirs.

“Yes, they will all be very happy at Tintagel. And so will we.” Placing a soft kiss on the side of his neck, he gave the brunette a gentle squeeze.

“This is where you belong, Harry,” Draco whispered in his ear. The shorter man took a deep breath as he let those words seep in and wash away the last lingering scraps of doubt and insecurity he hadn’t wanted to admit were still there, stains from a past he had tried to leave far behind him.

There had been a time in Harry’s life, when he had hated everything. He had hated the unwanted freak he was, hated the people he was forced to live with, hated the perfectly normal house on its perfectly normal street. He had hated everything so much he wanted nothing so much as to be _away_ , to be anywhere else at all. That had changed when he had wandered through a maze in the middle of an estate that was as far from perfectly normal as it could get.

He’d found magic, and acceptance, and a home. And now, more than a decade later, he looked around this grand house that was being built just because he had decided to build it, thought about the name he had made for himself and the world he was helping to shape with it. And he knew that he’d never want to be anyone else but the Lord Potter, or be with anyone else but the future Lord Malfoy, or live anywhere but the castle he was already silently calling Pendragon’s Keep. Harry Potter wanted nothing so much, so desperately, as to stay right here.

End

Note: for those interested, the spell to merge the rings, according to Google translate, is Latin for: with magic and heart I bind and seal

**Author's Note:**

> If you are interested in seeing some visuals for characters, locations, items and other images that go along with this and the others in this series, check out my pintrest board for this story here: https://www.pinterest.com/sunfirescribble/desperation/


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